Rules of Entanglement
by LanaDrama
Summary: For Hermione Granger and Lucius Malfoy, an accidental blind date leads to a new romance, which must battle scandals, betrayals, power struggles, political potboilers, intrusive press, and the typical dysfunction of the Malfoy Family. Can their love story defy all odds and conquer it all, or is it destined to end up in ruins? Adult readers only, please. Lucius/Hermione.
1. Chapter 1

**A naughty romantic tale to provide some relieve all the serious dramatic stuff I've been writing lately and to celebrate my one year anniversary on fanfiction.**

 **On a blind date, a certain couple breaks all the rules, but that's not necessarily a bad thing ;-)**

 ***Disclaimer: All characters and canon situations belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit by writing and posting this story.**

* * *

"You've got to be joking?" Hermione asked Ginny, incredulous at her friend's ludicrous suggestion.

The redheaded witch tossed her hair over her shoulder. "I'm not and what's wrong with that?"

"A blind date, Ginny? Do I look that desperate?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "One, it has nothing to do with level of desperation. Two, you haven't been out with anybody since you broke up with Ron. That was couple of years ago. Three, you need to have some fun. Four, you're in a rut. You're in danger of becoming a crazy cat lady forty years before your time."

"I'm not in a rut," Hermione vehemently protested. "I've been busy at work. I'm away 40 weeks out of the year, it doesn't leave much room to go out and meet men, you know. I'm not purposely avoiding dating, it's just lack of current options."

"Yes, but you're not taking any action to change your situation. Options are out there, but they won't be knocking on your door. You have to be more proactive in putting yourself out there and you're not doing it. You're in a rut and you're becoming very comfortable in it. I'm not asking you to take vows with the guy, just go out. Shake up your routine Sunday. From what Draco told me, you might even be a good match."

Ever since they went back to Hogwarts two years ago to finish their N.E.W.T.s, Ginny and Draco had become the closest of friends, much to the chagrin of their families.

"So what makes him such a good match then?" Hermione asked. "At least, give me a name."

Ginny wrinkled her forehead. "Draco and I agreed on no-name policy. We want both of you to be very open-minded going into this. We're didn't even share the names with each other. Suffice it to say that you both want the same things. Plus, if this date will crash and burn, you'll never have to see each other again. He doesn't really live in London, from what I gathered, so it's all good."

Hermione was unconvinced. "I don't know. I'd feel better about going if I knew a little bit more about this mystery guy."

"Well, Draco told me he's older, divorced, and attractive. You're always saying how you don't want kids and he already has a grown son and doesn't want any more. You also want someone who'll give you your space and won't be intimidated by either your career or friendship with Harry and, according to Draco, that's this guy to a T. He's successful in his own right, doesn't want anyone clingy, and isn't all that impressed with Harry. Draco was certain that this person won't be trying to use you to get to Harry, so … it's a great start. Just go to _Chez Laurent_ on Sunday and discover the rest."

Hermione's eyebrows rose up. "Isn't that a little too upscale for casual lunch?" And a little … well, a lot, out of her comfortable price range.

Ginny shrugged. "Apparently, it's one of his favorite restaurants. Draco said this guy's old-fashioned, so he'll probably won't let you pay."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable having someone buy me luxury meal. I think I'll feel obligated or something," she said, feeling more and more skeptical about this whole thing.

"Why should you feel obligated, and what for? It's only lunch, Hermione. Some dates treat others to nice things because they want to, not because they expect something. Even if he does, so what? You don't owe anyone a thing."

Hermione caved, wary of this conversation. Ginny clearly wouldn't give up until she agreed anyway. "You know what? I'll go, but if this doesn't work out, you'll stop trying to set me up."

"Well, technically, Draco is setting this up since he's the one who asked me if I had a friend for his friend. You're the only single person I could think of who would be mature enough for this guy."

"Ginny."

"Fine, fine. I promise," her friend gave in. "Admit it, though, it's for your own good. Some day you'll be old and gray, and wished you'd taken more chances in life. Spontaneity is good for the soul."

"I will admit nothing until this date is over. Then we'll see."

Ginny stood up. "I'm going to let Draco know you agreed and it's all go for Sunday. Trust me, it'll be great."

And just as she had arrived in a whirlwind of excitement, Ginny left just as quickly.

* * *

Standing outside the doors of _Chez Laurent_ , Hermione was plagued by second thoughts. Except it was too late to back out. On one hand, it felt good to dress up and get out a little. On the other hand, she was feeling completely out of her element. Still, it would be impolite to be late. _Rule 1: don't be disrespectful by being late. Everyone's time is important to them._ And no one wants to sit around in public by themselves with nothing to do.

Gathering her courage, Hermione walked in. Her eyes widened at the luxurious decor. The walls were done in pale pink, sharply contrasting against the crimson carpet. A crystal chandelier hung above her head, illuminating the impressionist art on the walls. The only sounds were hushed voices and the tickling of glassware.

She approached the hostess and quietly said, "Hello. Party of two. The reservation is under Malfoy."

"Right this way, please," she said, smiling at Hermione.

Hermione followed her through a sea of tables, anxiously looking around.

 _Rule 2: relax. There is no need to feel pressured; it's only a date. If it's a total disaster, we never have to see each other again._

The hostess suddenly stopped. "Mr. Malfoy, your other party has arrived."

Gobsmacked, Hermione nearly collided with her, tittering on her pumps.

 _Lucius Malfoy was my mystery date? It had to be joke!_ Obviously, not a funny one.

Trust Ginny-Draco matchmaking production to screw up the most basic task. _This is why you ask for names,_ she bitterly thought. _To avoid awkward moments like this!_

Lucius Malfoy stood up and walked over to her.

"Miss Granger," he said politely, extending his hand to her.

As she shook it, a warm sensation shot up her arm and spread to the rest of her body. "Mr. Malfoy, how do you do?" she weakly returned.

He pulled out her chair for her, then took his own seat. Well, this was … strange. He still wanted to have lunch with her?

Hermione glanced across the table at him, desperately raking her brain for something to say. She had a list of topics in her head, but none of them seemed appropriate now.

His eyes sliced right through were like a pair of fjords — the shimmery, lonely ones somewhere in Scandinavia. And they looked almost as cold as they examined her; his gaze intent on her face before it trailed down the rest of her body. His look was so brazen, yet she found it oddly flattering. Thank goodness for Rule Three to dress smart: not too revealing, yet appropriate for the occasion.

She should say something. Now!

 _Rule 4: address the elephant in the room._

Hermione opened her mouth to comment on the situation, but he beat her to it.

"This is unexpected," he said.

Hermione let out a little laugh. "That's an understatement of the year! I'm pretty sure that even our matchmakers would be shocked. I was warned to be open-minded."

He sneered. "Let's not be so open-minded that our brains fall out."

Her mortification was complete. She leaned in. "Listen, I won't be offended if you wanted to call this off. There's no point in doing it if you're … uncomfortable."

Unfazed, he brushed off her suggestion. "It's one lunch, Miss Granger. We both have to eat."

"Yes, but if you rather not … do it together, I understand."

"Do you have any particular objections?" He imperiously raised one brow at her.

"I rather thought you would. But no, I don't have any objections," she replied, feeling her face grow warm.

"Very well."

"What would you like to start with this afternoon?" A male voice asked them.

Hermione blinked blankly at the waiter, then glanced down at the menu before her.

It was all so … in French.

"How about a dozen oysters for an appetizer?" Lucius suggested, his eyes twinkling at Hermione.

"Great," she said, but silently screamed, _No, not great at all! I don't know the first thing about eating oysters!_

"Perfect," the waiter said, scratching the order on his pad.

"What is plat du jour?" Lucius asked with perfect French accent.

"Today's specialty is roast duck with vinaigrette sauce. Highly recommended."

"How does that sound?" Lucius asked Hermione.

"Sounds good," she said, watching him, in admiration of his ease and poise.

The waiter walked away with their orders and they were once again they had only each other to focus on.

Her mouth went dry as Hermione desperately wrung her head for something – anything – to talk about!

"I remember reading something about you winning _Transfiguration Today's_ Most Promising Newcomer award. Are you in the field now?" he asked her.

She smiled. "I have a regular column there now. It was mainly advice on taking O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, but now I cover conferences, new theories, and even publish my own research, especially in more obscure areas of Transfiguration."

Lucius looked mildly impressed. "Remarkable. It was never my best subject, so I must commend you. I thought you'd end up running the Ministry of Magic by now."

Hermione grimaced. "I worked at the Department for the Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures for a while, but … I found out that slow bureaucratic process is not for me. It actually drove me mad. I always felt like I wasn't doing anything productive, which is why I started submitting articles to _Transfiguration Today_ and the rest, as they say, is history."

"I must start reading it again," he said. "I think it's wonderful to have something you're so passionate about."

Hermione beamed at him. She was flattered that he had taken such keen interest in something so important to her. He made her feel so vibrant, like everything she said was important.

"What about you? What have you been doing since these past couple of years?" Then she remembered about his sentence in Azkaban and that he was only released this past winter.

"I'm sorry," she quickly added, embarrassed at how tactless she must have sounded. "That was really stupid of me. I can't believe I forgot that you were only released from Azkaban this year."

"It's okay." He placed his hand lightly on her chin. A tingling sensation rushed through her body at the contact. Suddenly Hermione felt as though she were floating on air.

"It happened. I survived. I moved on. There's no point in pretending that part of my life didn't exist."

"I can't imagine how difficult and lonely it must have been for you," she sympathized.

 _Rule 5: Don't talk about heavy topics._ But it seemed more wrong not to acknowledge it.

"It's in the past now," he airily said.

"What do you do to relax … to take your mind off things?" she asked him.

"I've taken up tennis again," Lucius replied. "I've always enjoyed that in my youth, but it's hard to find anyone to play with me. Draco's so busy of late and I'm sure he'd rather be off with his own friends rather than be bored with his old man."

Hermione sat up straighter. "I love tennis. I used to play it every summer!"

"Perhaps we could play sometime," he suggested.

"That would be great," Hermione said, excited by the idea, but stopped herself from pursuing it further. They weren't supposed to be making plans for next dates without seeing how this one went first.

The waiter arrived with a platter of gray oysters, placing the tray down in the middle of the table. He set two china plats in front of them.

" _Bon appétit,_ " he said and left.

Panic hit Hermione as she eyed the platter with apprehension. She decided to take her cues from Lucius Malfoy. As if sensing her unease, he picked up his shell-fork to separate meat from the shell, then smoothly picked it up and tipped the contents into his mouth. Hermione was more and more impressed with him. Not only was he sophisticated and cultured, but he was actually very gallant to her. He was nothing like she thought he was. She assumed he'd storm off rather than sit at a table with her. Obviously, she was way off the mark about him.

"When I was a boy, I once dug for oysters in Monaco. I almost fell into the water trying to retrieve one," he told her.

"You've seen quite a lot of the world, then?" she asked, carefully fiddling with her shell-fork. Despite the awkward beginning, she was actually starting to relax.

He shrugged. "No matter where I go, there is no pleasure in this world like coming home."

Hermione brought the shell up to her mouth. "You don't have to swallow it whole, do you?"

His eyes twinkled at her. "It's a myth, Miss Granger. You can't get the whole taste unless you chew it. Even eating it off the shell makes it lose a lot of the flavor. You don't want to risk that. Those are the best oysters in the world."

She laughed. "Really? According to whom? Who ranks what is best and worst anyway?"

"Life is too short not to appreciate its finest pleasures," he told her. "I think you'd agree."

"I don't disagree, but would something second best be so bad? If something's good, it's good, no? Who cares if it's not the best?"

"Our time is too limited to waste it on second, third, tenth best," he disagreed. "Pretend that we're at the State Hermitage or the Louvre."

"It's only a first date and you already have me traveling to Petersburg and Paris with you," she joked.

"Don't get sidetracked now. If we're at the Louvre, for instance, it's far too large for us to cover it all in one trip, so what do you do? You go to see the most famous pieces, no? You don't want to go and not see the _Mona Lisa_ or V _enus de Milo_ , do you? You go to a museum like the Louvre to see its most famous pieces, the ones that are considered the best. That's why they're housed there and not at some local gallery."

"True," Hermione agreed. "What does that have to do with oysters though?"

"It's a matter of taste. Limited time makes us more discerning in our tastes."

"But taste is subjective," she countered.

"Some people certainly think so."

"But you don't?"

"No, I don't," he said, giving her a small, mysterious smile.

The waiter returned with two steaming plates of roast duck. He set them down and picked up empty oyster tray.

"Enjoy your meal," he told them.

"This looks delicious," Hermione said, eyeing the dish with appreciation.

As they ate their meal, they continued to converse. She was finding him to be absolutely captivating. She couldn't remember last time she had so much fun. Or had such a magnetic attraction. Hermione felt her face glow pink just from the way he kept looking at her. The food was amazing and Lucius's company completely enchanting. Time had flown by so much that by the time they had finished their chocolate caramel cake for dessert, Hermione didn't want the date to end.

"What shall you do now?" he asked her as they walked out of the restaurant.

"Well, I've already packed for the conference in Manchester. I don't have any plans for the rest of the evening," she answered. "There is a movie I've been wanting to see, so I suppose I could do that. What about you?"

"What movie?"

She glanced at him. Her heart pounding at the implication. Would he like to go with her? " _The Imperial Affair_. It's about Emperor Paul's mistress, Anna Lopukhina."

"Sounds scandalous. Why don't we see it together?" he offered.

A smile bloomed on her lips. "I'd like that," she said.

Within minutes, they purchased tickets and took their seats. They were the only people in the audience. Sunday's tea time was clearly an unpopular slot for moviegoers. Still, the intimate atmosphere was welcome. Thirty minutes into the film, however, Hermione was mortified to discover that the movie took an unabashedly erotic turn. Common sense should have told her that a film about a royal affair would inevitably include showing said affair. But she didn't think it would be like this. And it was her suggestion! What must he think of her?

Aren't there rules about not introducing the topic of sex on the first date?

During one love scene, Lucius bent to whisper in her ear, "How long is his tongue that he can reach between her thighs while his head is still on her stomach? This is ridiculous."

 _Good, he's not finding it at all sexy._

"I know!" she enthusiastically agreed. Her leg accidentally brushed against his. She tried to ignore the subtle jolt that rushed through her, reminding her what it felt like to be near a man. "In quite a few of those shots, it's obvious that his face is nowhere near her crotch, yet she goes into orgasmic convulsions. I'm completely side-eyeing this scene: I'm not buying that a virginal girl on her second time of having sex is that interested in being tied down."

"What's wrong with being tied down?" he asked.

"Nothing, I guess," Hermione responded. "Well, I wouldn't know. I'm just finding it unrealistic that a late 18th century ingenue is that into kink with only one introduction to sex without kink. Nowadays, it's not unusual, but how much sex education could she have had? This is someone who in the last scene thought there was only one sexual position."

He chuckled. "I see your point."

"And the scene where she orgasms at a banquet just from his innuendoes is asking for an eye-roll. If orgasms were so easy without physical contact, then sex toy shops would go out of business."

Hermione felt a tickling sensation of his breath on her neck. "Not true. Without ever putting a hand on you, I could make you come like she did," Lucius smugly announced.

Stunned but intrigued by his declaration, Hermione challenged him in return, "You can try."

"I don't try. I do."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself."

A throaty, slightly sinister laugh left him. "Care to make a wager, then?"

"All right," she agreed, turning all her attention on him. "What shall we wager?"

"The winner chooses our next activity," Lucius drawled in his aristocratic, well-modulated tone.

"You're on," Hermione breathed out, her voice quivering.

"There are a few rules," he told her. "First, you must keep your eyes closed. Second, you cannot speak, only listen. Third, you cannot touch yourself. Nod if you understand."

A thrill rippled through her body as she nodded.

He waited until she closed her eyes and gripped the hand rests, then he spoke, "Last spring I saw you walking in the rain in Diagon Alley. You kept lifting your face towards the sky, almost enjoying nature's caresses. You had this look of pure happiness on your face, as you stepped into every puddle. I don't think I've ever seen anyone so happy and carefree. You mesmerized me, so I followed you. You didn't notice me, why should you have? You were lost in your own cloud of euphoria. Then, the rain came down harder, molding your clothes to your body, outlining every lovely curve. You went inside Flourish and Blotts. I followed you there. As you browsed through the books, you looked at me briefly, then turned away. I kept looking at you. I could see your pert nipples straining through your thin, soaked blouse. How I longed to kiss them, lick them, suck them, run my tongue over each one before gentling biting down … would you even like having your breasts played with?"

As she listened to him talk, Hermione began to feel the first signs of arousal seep through her veins. She had never been spoken to like this. She did go to Flourish and Blotts often, did he really see her on one of those trips? Did he really think those things or is he simply saying it for her benefit now?

Regardless of his motivations, each word aroused her more and more as he continued to walk her through his memory, "In that moment, I desired you like I had no other woman. I wanted to know you, to feel you, to taste you … my cock became so hard just by watching you. But you … you had no idea. You were oblivious to everything but the books in your hands. As I stood behind you in line, I could smell the rain on you along with that sweet scent you have on now. You have no idea how intoxicating it is."

Lucius moved closer to her now, as he provocatively delivered each word, "I imagined peeling that blouse off your breasts … imagined grasping them in my hands, caressing the cold, wet skin, pinching the nipples before tasting them. Is it something you would like me to do to you?"

She could only nod in agreement, soaking with arousal by now.

"Hmm. Do you know what I would like?" he asked in amusement. "I'd like to get you out of this dress and run my hands up those lovely legs of yours until I reach your pussy. I'd touch you first through your underwear, rubbing those wet lips through the material."

It was agony not to touch herself. Hermione squeezed her thighs together, but the tension continued unabated.

There was a tension in his voice as he continued, "I'd love to slide those knickers down your legs and leave them pooling around your graceful ankles. I want to lick you slowly at first, tasting your essence. Then I'll plunge my tongue deep inside your cunt until you grind your hips in my face, wanting my tongue to bury itself deeper and deeper inside you. You'll want to come so badly, but I won't let you just yet. I'd pull back from you, replacing my tongue with two fingers, thrusting them fast inside you while I flick my tongue over your clit before I suck hard on the throbbing bud. I won't stop until you come and when you do, I'll fuck you with my cock. I wonder how warm and tight your pussy will feel around me."

Hermione felt her inner vaginal muscles contract. She was so close. If he so much as breathed on her now, she'd sail over the edge.

"As I fuck you harder with each plunge, you'll squeeze your inner muscles around me, gripping my cock hard, unwilling to be parted from it even for a second. I'll keep driving into you until your body writhes beneath mine in ecstasy and you'll spasm all around me from pleasure."

Mental image struck her and Hermione gasped as the blood rushed to her head. Her body constricted, then jerked up from searing orgasm. More wetness gathered between her thighs as she eventually relaxed back into her chair.

"Then and only then, I'll come on those beautiful breasts," Lucius went on. "Once you've recovered your wits, you'd lick my cock clean. Would you like that?"

"Yes. Oh, yes, Mr. Malfoy," she quietly called out, only half comprehending what he was saying now.

He drew a thumb across her bottom lip. "It appears I won our little wager. I am not as incompetent as you thought."

"I never said you were. Only that … never mind. You're the winner, obviously. What shall we do now?" Hermione's energy was suddenly renewed by her curiosity.

The wizard looked her up and down. "What do you think about coming home with me and trying some of this out first hand?"

"You mean bondage and stuff like in the film? I don't know. I've never been restrained before."

His expression became more intense. "Are you interested in giving it a try?"

She hesitated. "I am, but I'm … nervous?"

 _Cardinal rule of all dates: never, ever sleep on a first date! Never, ever!_

But she didn't care about the rules now. He'd just made her come from the power of his words alone. Hermione wanted to see what else he could do to her. She had to face some hard truths anyway: this date might as well be their last whether or not sex was on the table. If they were never to repeat this, she'd probably regret it.

He put a hand on her arm. "You have no reason to be nervous. If it gets too uncomfortable, we'll stop." His breath grew harsh. "Do I have a yes?" he queried in a low, gruff voice.

Hermione was apprehensive, yet aroused. "Yes," she whispered. "But I'd like to return the favor first." She looked at his lap and licked her lips, running her hands suggestively over his inseam.

Understanding her hint, he slowly unzipped his trousers. His cock was already erect as it sprang out from its dark confines. Hermione slipped out of her seat and slid down to her knees in front of him. He waited without urging her. Finally, she put two hands on his thighs, leaned forward, and took him into her mouth.

Experimentally, Hermione went up and down once. She looked up at him and he watched her with a neutral expression. She brought her hands to his cock, caressing the hard flesh while she worked him with her mouth and tongue. He stretched her jaw, but Hermione ignored the discomfort. His hips flexed and his hands went into her hair, but he didn't force her motions.

She tried to relax her throat and take even more of him. Her efforts were rewarded with a long, low moan. Hearing his pleasure thrilled Hermione, and she managed to take in a little more of his length into her mouth, increasing her pace. It wasn't long before his hips moved under her. Lucius gathered her wrists, restraining them against his thighs so that she could use only her mouth on him. Hermione was surprised to hear her own low moan when he pinned her hands, but she let his hips guide her pace.

When he spoke again, his voice was strained pleasure, "I'm going to come. Stop if you don't want me to do it in your mouth."

She didn't slow down.

Hermione sucked a little harder and then he stilled, gushing forcefully into her mouth. His hands were still tight around her wrists, his hips pushing up into her. She continued to suck on his shaft until he was done, swallowing the thick, slightly salty fluid. When he let go of her wrists, she stopped.

His handsome face was flushed and his cock still twitched. "That was …" His eyes searched her face. "…surprising."

Hermione was still on her knees in front of him. "Was it okay?"

He lifted his eyebrows and helped her off the floor. "No, it wasn't okay. It was … perfection."

Blushing, Hermione couldn't believe what she had just done.

Lucius regarded her with an intense look. "Instead of relieving my tension, you've made me want you that much more. Still yes?"

 _No, you fool! You don't have sex on a first date! You just don't!_

"Yes."

For better or for worse, she had sealed her fate.

* * *

 **And so the night begins ...**


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to the Malfoy House in Lowndes Square was mainly silent. Nerves and excitement engulfed Hermione as she stared out the window into London's early evening traffic until they stopped in front of one of the white stucco houses that characterize so much of Belgravia.

This was officially her first one-night stand and Hermione wondered what was the proper etiquette for this sort of thing. Should she make small-talk or continue to stay silent until he spoke to her? He guided her through his darkened home to his bedroom, her pumps making harsh clacking sounds on the wooden floor. When they arrived at their destination, he closed the door behind them but didn't lock it. Hermione didn't know what to do and stood against the wall, careful not to lean against it. Lucius flicked his wand and the candle sconces by the bed lit up. He tossed his jacket onto one of the plush chairs near the closet door and stepped toward to her. He took a seat on a sofa that faced the floor-length windows.

He cocked his head back at her. "Are you trying to avoid sitting next to me?"

"No," Hermione breathed out forcing herself to take the necessary steps to join him. She shivered at his close proximity as she lowered herself onto the cushion next to him.

He draped his arm over her shoulders.

"Relax. I'm not going to have my way with you." he said. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

"Don't be so nervous. I want you to enjoy yourself. I'm not going to make you do anything against your will. Do you believe me?" he asked her.

She nodded, but his words did nothing to soothe her nerves. "I have to know something. Did you mean what you said to me … when you said you saw me at Flourish and Blotts?"

His lips twitched. "Oh, yes."

Hermione licked her lips and pressed on, "So it's not revenge?"

"Revenge? No," Lucius spoke softly in her ear. "The very idea of it, Miss Granger. I'm not a sadist. I don't humiliate witches for pleasure. It's just you and me tonight. You have the final say in everything. It's just us. Let's play a game. If I do something that makes you feel good, we'll keep going. If not, we'll stop. You will tell me. If anything gets too much for you, we'll go no further. There is one condition though: you have to be perfectly honest. Can you do that?"

"Yes. Sounds simple enough."

"Let's get more comfortable, shall we?" He undid a few buttons on his shirt before pulling it off, revealing a toned torso.

She gulped. How was she expected to relax now?

To keep her shaking hands occupied, she reached down and pulled off her shoes, placing them carefully next to her on the floor.

He bent slightly and kissed her neck.

"Still good?" he asked, his voice husky. She nodded.

"Get up for me." He rose up and extended his hand to her, which she accepted.

His hands slipped round to the zipper on the back of her dress. She stiffened as he began pulling the zip down, but she didn't stop him, and in a few moments the dress was on the floor around her feet and she was in her underwear before him.

He stood back for a second and just looked at her. She was wearing plain silk knickers and matching bra.

He led her to the bed.

"The best feature of this bed is the mattress. Try it out." His breath tickled her skin.

She did as he suggested, enjoying the luxurious fabric beneath her. "Hmm." She could swear that he could hear the thudding beat of her heart.

His hands came up to reverently caress her legs and she moaned in response.

He sighed. "Shall we keep going?"

"Yes." She couldn't turn away. Her brain kept telling her to halt this madness and get out of here, but her body refused to obey. Instead she wanted to surrender to this unexpected seduction.

Emboldened, she leaned into him and touched his chest, exploring his muscles with her hands.

"Yes, touch me." His voice was uneven and thin, lacking its usual resonance.

Hesitantly, she touched him with her lips. Hearing encouragement from him, she charted a slow path of kisses across the expanse of his chest. When her lips encountered his nipple, she raised her head to look at him. His eyes bored into her. Seconds stretched into eternity.

"Do you want me to?" she whispered.

"Do _you_ want to?"

"Yes." Her tongue slipped past her lips to lap at his nipple, teasing it further with delicate licks.

He growled and took her into his arms, lowering his mouth to hers. Ravenous lips fused together. His tongue plunged into her mouth, devouring her. His hand moved to touch her breasts until she whimpered his name against his lips. His hands moved to swiftly remove her bra. When they pulled apart, she heard him whisper an incantation she'd never heard before. The end of his wand lit up with a lilac glow. She watched him lower it to her shoulder. It vibrated against her and she lightly laughed at the sensation as he glided his wand down her arm.

"Does it feel good?" he asked.

"Feels wonderful. Kind of tickles."

He pushed the wand over her nipple, guiding it teasingly all around her areola. She alternately gasped and sighed. He brought the wand to her other breast and repeated the process before tracing it down to the middle of her abdomen and all around her navel. She stole a glance at his face. He clearly enjoyed this slow seduction, and she was completely enthralled by the new sensations he was awakening in her. Lucius's slow approach was melting every bone in her body.

The tip of his wand played along the edges of her knickers. Then he said something else and the lilac glow and vibration ceased.

A hint of a smile danced at the corners of his mouth. "Did you like it?"

"It felt good."

"Raise up," he told her. "Face the window."

She got up and did as he told her, trembling. It was already late dusk and the city lights glittered in the distance.

His footsteps approached her from behind and Hermione saw his ghostly reflection in the window in front of her. Lucius brushed her hair over one shoulder and kissed her neck, sending shivers over her skin.

"I'm going to bind your wrists," he said in a low voice. He pulled her wrists to the small of her back and a black ribbon went around each of her wrists.

Her instinct was to struggle. She tried to control herself but a frightened sound left her lips when the satin tightened.

"Would you like me to unbind you?"

"Not yet."

His hands roamed over her from behind. Lucius caressed up her arms, down her back, over her backside. He moved his hands up her front, stopping at her breasts.

"Turn around," he gruffly ordered.

She did, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"Look at me."

Her eyes flickered up and then down again. She was practically naked and bound. Meeting his eyes felt like an impossibility. He lifted her chin. "Look at me, Hermione."

It was the first time he had ever used her first name and it thrilled her.

"I'm sorry," she breathed out. "I'm trying."

Lucius drew a finger over her cheek, trailing it down her neck, between her breasts, and over the midline of her torso. He stopped when he reached the edge of her underwear.

"Are you aroused?" he asked.

"Yes," she whispered in response.

His expression took on a renewed intensity. He slipped his hand into her knickers for verification. When he felt her slickness, his eyes closed.

"Yes, you are."

He took his hand away without stimulating her too much.

"Perfect," he said. "You're shaking. Is it fear, cold, or excitement?"

"Excitement, mostly. A little fear," she admitted. Hermione was so aroused she doubted she'd ever feel cold again.

"If we had the whole weekend, I would just drive you insane tonight. I wouldn't even take off your knickers until morning, no matter how much you begged me." He paused, heated amusement ruling his features. "Have you ever begged for someone to touch you, Hermione?"

She swayed on the spot. She could imagine herself there, so needy and knowing that her need aroused him.

"No," she answered.

He brushed a curl over her shoulder.

"Kneel on the bed," he told told her.

She obeyed while he watched her. "Move your knees wider," he said. Again, she obeyed. "A little more." She did.

He walked over to Hermione and grabbed a tight handful of her hair at the crown, pulling her head back, making her chest thrust out. She had no hands to defend herself.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Helpless," she confessed.

Lucius slipped a hand inside her knickers again. "Not just helpless," he said, satisfaction in his voice. He touched her in languid, torturous way of his without easing the tight grip on her hair. Hermione couldn't help but whimper in response.

"That's a sound I don't get to hear too often," he said. "A good girl wanting to break out of her shell by doing something naughty. Isn't that what you are, Hermione?"

She had an odd surge of humiliation at the way he put that and, to her embarrassment, tears filled her eyes. His grip loosened. "What is it?" he asked, his tone gentler than she expected.

"Please don't shame me," she breathed out, trying to keep the tears from falling.

His expression turned almost kind. "There's no need to be ashamed. It's just us." His fingers started working again. "You like this, don't you?"

"Yes."

"And you are a good girl, are you not?"

His fingers and words worked together to help her dry her tears. "I suppose so."

"You don't do this sort of thing. You've never even contemplated it before."

She couldn't stop another whimper from leaving her. "No. Not until you mentioned it at the cinema."

"I like that," he said. "I like that it's only for me."

Hermione pressed herself into his hand without thinking and saw him smile.

"You're close," he stated.

"Yes," she confirmed.

"But you won't. Not until I say you can. Understand?" His fingers found a new pace.

"I'm not going to be able to control it."

"You'll have to try."

Her pleasure climbed higher with each stroke of his fingers. She didn't want to disobey him, but it was difficult to hold off.

"Please," she gasped out.

"There it is," Lucius said, sounding deeply satisfied. "What are you begging for?"

"Please, stop. You're going to make me come."

He withdrew his hand and put the tips of his fingers on her lips. He didn't let go of her hair, keeping her head bent back.

"Taste yourself," he ordered her.

She touched his fingers with her tongue, tasting herself for the first time.

"You wanted me to finish you, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you beg me to stop?"

It felt like a trick question but Hermione answered it anyway, "It wasn't what you wanted."

Her words lit a fire behind his eyes. He let go of the hair at the crown of her head and held her face, pulling it to his more gently than she expected. Lucius kissed her possessively. Then moved her up the bed, untying her wrists.

"Lay down," he instructed. "Hands over your head."

Hermione obeyed, excited at how much this resembled the scene they had just watched. The satin ribbons wound again around her wrists, the other ends secured themselves around the headboard balusters. It was more restrictive than having them tied behind her back and she slightly panicked as she gave them a tug.

"You look beautiful bound. Are you comfortable?" Lucius asked.

"This sort of thing is new to me," she said, slightly shifting on the mattress.

"I know. That's why you wanted to try it. You have no idea how much it excites me."

"But what's in it for the person who's tied up? Why would someone want to do this more than once?" Hermione was aware that she looked like she would be taking notes were it not for her bonds.

Lucius smirked at her. "Why don't you answer that question after we're done here?" He ran his hands up her legs, stopping at her knickers. "First, let's get rid of these." He peeled her underwear away. "Spread your legs."

He surveyed Hermione with a satisfied look and then sat down on the bed next to her, holding up his wand. The tip glowed again and it began vibrating.

"I'm going to give you a choice," he told her, circling her nipple with it. Everything in her midsection tightened. "I can make you come, but if I do, I'm not going to stop at one orgasm. I'm going to keep going until I'm satisfied that you can't take it any more."

He caressed the inside of her splayed thighs, drawing the wand down her torso slowly. "Alternately, I could just take you. But if I do, you won't have permission to come." He drew the wand lower, keeping the pressure so light it was maddening. "What would you like to do?"

Hermione really didn't know. "Whatever pleases you," she finally said.

Lucius closed his eyes like her words alone gave him sexual pleasure. Slowly, he rubbed the wand over her pussy. She had been so close when he stopped that her body immediately returned to the previous level of arousal at the slightest provocation.

"May I come?" she moaned.

"Yes, come."

Hermione shuddered into orgasm and despite his light touch, it was sweet and intense. She bucked against his wand and he followed her motion. But then, when pleasure gave way to sensitivity, he didn't stop. Her legs wanted to twitch closed, but to her surprise black ribbons were holding them firmly in place.

He tutted but didn't look angry. "So sensitive," he said in a conversational tone.

Lucius caressed her with the wand gently, noting what made her jump and avoided it. Hermione hadn't ever forced sensation on herself after an orgasm. After about a minute of gentle wand-touching, he ran a finger over her pussy. She moaned.

"That's my girl," he said. He increased the speed of the wand's vibration and started working her in earnest.

Suddenly, Hermione felt the pressure rising again. Strange sounds left her lips. They sounded half distressed and half surprised. Then, before she could even ask for permission, she shot into orgasm again. It was sharp and fast. Hermione tried to grip the headboard, but couldn't get a good grip on it due to her binds.

This time he didn't stop at all. Lucius continued stroking just above her clit. Little orgasmic contractions kept fluttering inside her. Hermione didn't even know how to classify the new sensation. The wand began vibrating even faster. Lucius stroked her longer with it and with more determination. In less than ten minutes, she shivered into another climax. Hermione was already exhausted but he circled his wand harder against her clit, clearly getting her ready for another orgasm.

"No," Hermione hoarsely called out.

"No?"

The intense vibration slowed down and Hermione let out a loud groan.

"That doesn't sound like no."

Lucius used his other hand to touch her, letting his fingers stray over her, spreading her wetness. Hermione rose again, helpless against the overwhelming pleasure. He sent her spinning into another climax and this time she cried out even louder.

"There we go," he purred. "I knew you wouldn't be able to stay so quiet forever."

But he still didn't stop. Hermione strained against her binds, trying to close her legs. He ignored it, circling the wand around her entrance. Then he set it down and inserted two fingers inside her.

Hermione couldn't believe that she was hovering over yet another release. She didn't even think she was capable of two in a row, much less this marathon. It scared her a little what her body could be manipulated into doing. Then, with his fingers stroking inside her, she reached another peak. This one was less intense but at this point, everything felt too much.

And still, he didn't stop.

Her body was a traitorous thing. It would give him as many orgasms as he wanted it to.

"Please. Stop," she begged.

He showed no signs of heeding her pleas.

"Please," she gasped.

"Say my name and it all ends," he purred. "Otherwise, say whatever you like."

His fingers circled and circled all inside her. She wanted him to stop and didn't want him to stop all at once.

Another orgasm shattered over her; it was almost painful. Pleasure and pain all in one.

"I can't," she whined.

"Yes, you can. Watch."

He took up his evil wand and pressed it right against her clit, holding it there without moving it. With one hand, he unzipped his trousers and yanked them down his legs. He smiled at her moans and sighs.

"Look at me," Lucius ordered and when Hermione obeyed, she exploded into another climax.

Waves of pain and pleasure washed over her in series of small torturous tremors. She weakly pulled against her binds, moving her legs as much as she could. Nothing mattered. Her body convulsed again and again with aftershocks. Unable to stop them, she yelped with every passing tremor as it hit her. And yet Hermione didn't want to fight what he was doing to her. It may be the only night together and she wanted to get as much as she could from it. Until it became beyond unbearable.

He set his wand aside and leaned over her swollen pussy. She guessed what he planned to do and what it would likely do to her body.

"No, please don't," she said, panic finally demanding to be expressed.

"Don't what?" he asked, his breath scraping against her oversensitive flesh. "This?" He licked her in a long, broad stroke. The sensation drove Hermione forward yet again. A rush of blood to the head was making her faint.

"Please, Mr. Malfoy … not this." His tongue gave her another long stroke, then pulled away.

Hermione was so overwhelmed, her eyes filled with tears.

He kissed her once more and she responded, her lips moving weakly under his. He pulled away and she heard the rip of a condom wrapper. Then he thrust past her tightness and any lingering resistance, and buried himself inside her. The fullness felt good, but as he moved, Hermione contracted as though she hadn't stopped orgasming.

He groaned. "It's like you're massaging my cock."

Lucius picked up his pace and she mewled at the building pressure. He showed no have mercy; he just took her harder and faster. She couldn't do anything but move with his thrusts and accept the continuing rise. When she came again, she clamped around his cock. He swiveled his hips, swore, and pressed himself into her, then withdrew and collapsed next to her on the bed, breathless. His cock hadn't fully deflated. He saw Hermione looking and smirked.

"I know," he said, "but you're done."

"Not if you're not," she said. "I want to give you as much pleasure as you gave me."

The heat in his eyes resurfaced. "You have."

"You can come. In my mouth again. If you want."

He hissed as he removed the condom and then went to the headboard and tucked a pillow under her head, leaving her still tied. Then he straddled her neck; his cock right by her mouth.

"If you need this to stop, snap your fingers twice," he told her. "Show me now that you can."

She did. Then he put one hand on either side of her head, properly positioning it. He urged her lips open with his thumbs and thrust his cock in her mouth all the way to the back of her throat. His thrusts were quick and rough. Hermione gagged a little but it excited her to be taken like this – to have Lucius Malfoy possess her and be in complete control of her body.

He looked down at her, his jaw clenched. "I love how you suck me."

She sucked on him a little harder and he moaned, becoming even stiffer. "Snap your fingers if you want me to pull out," he said, his voice trembling.

Hermione didn't.

His thrusts were more haphazard and in another half dozen strokes, he finished in her mouth. She swallowed every drop again, relishing in the texture and taste of his warm fluid.

This time, when Lucius fell beside her, he looked much calmer. Lazily, he ran his hands over her breasts. With a nonverbal spell, he untied her bonds.

"Lay on your stomach," he instructed her.

Hermione was so tired; nevertheless, she obeyed him. Lucius straddled her waist and rubbed her shoulders and arms, working the sore muscles. His hands were strong but gentle. It was almost like he was thanking her with his healing touches.

"Do you have your answers now? About the benefits of bondage?" he asked her.

"Yes," she replied through her sighs. "It takes away control and heightens the sensation, partially because I couldn't return your touches and had to focus on my body's responses and reactions. Everything felt more intense somehow."

"Now you know." He leaned over her and whispered, "Sleep."

And not long after that, she did.

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she couldn't believe that Lucius Malfoy let her stay overnight. She opened her eyes to find him sitting in a chair, fully dressed, watching her. She blushed at her nudity and when she remembered all their escapades from the night before.

"Good morning," Lucius said.

"Good morning," she returned.

"Breakfast?"

Images rushed back to her: being tied up, begging him, letting him come into her mouth. She couldn't believe she did all that on what was supposed to be a first date. Well, last date now. She knew it then though and had no regrets, even if she was embarrassed about some of her actions in light of day.

"Thank you, but I'm not hungry," Hermione told him.

"Coffee, then?"

"I should go, actually."

He frowned. "You don't want to do that."

No, she didn't. She wanted to know more about this wizard. She wanted to stay, have breakfast, and laugh about stupid things over orange juice, but it wasn't a good idea to prolong the inevitable. Men had a double standard about sex on first dates: they asked for it but, as soon as they got it, the woman was somehow cheapened in their eyes. They probably even assumed she did this on all her dates. Shuddering, Hermione couldn't imagine what Lucius Malfoy thought of her now … probably that all Mudbloods were easy to shag. She had no interest in becoming anybody's secret sex toy, no matter what impression she had given him last night.

"I do. I told you, I have a train to catch," she said. "The Manchester conference."

"I'll leave you to get dressed then," he said. He stood, turning to go.

She quickly threw on her clothes and stepped into her pumps. Hermione glanced at herself in his bathroom mirror. It was hard for her to believe what she had let herself do. Still, no regrets. It's not as though she was holding out for a second date even before she decided to come home with him.

Finally, she exited his bedroom and walked downstairs. Lucius came over to her, putting his hands on her arms like he wanted to hold her in place. "Are you sure you don't want breakfast?"

"No, no time."

He frowned again. "Perhaps I may write you sometime then?"

Hermione flushed. "If you like."

"Didn't you enjoy yourself?"

"Of course, but I don't feel like myself anymore," she admitted.

"This is new for you." There was understanding in his tone.

"Yes."

"And you think it's out of character."

 _Yes, completely._ "I—"

"I'm not one of those wizards who thinks it's some sort of black mark against you. I was a willing participant too, remember? It was unexpected, but so was the rest of the date."

"I'm not sure I'm ready for all this."

He frowned a third time and looked at her in a way that she couldn't decipher. "All this?"

"I don't want to mislead you into thinking I'm okay with casual, no-strings-attached sex. I mean I assumed this was a one-time offer, so I took it. But doing it regularly? It's not for me. I'm more comfortable with taking things slow."

"I can do slow," he said.

 _Yeah, right. That's what they all say._

This whole conversation sounded like he was just trying to be polite, rather than give her the stereotypical brush off.

"Well, then. If you feel like it, you may write me … if you really want to." Hermione backed away to the door but something in his expression made her stop. "Thank you for an unforgettable night, Mr. Malfoy," she added. "I'll always remember it."

"Likewise, Miss Granger."

There it was. Finality. He was being polite, just as she had suspected.

Turning away, she walked towards the front door. She didn't look back as she walked out of his house. Hermione didn't trust herself to leave if she did.

* * *

 **I'm so flattered by your response to this story! Thank you all!**

 **The big question is: will there be another date for those two?**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	3. Chapter 3

"About time! Ginny explained almost as soon as Hermione stepped inside the flat they shared. The younger witch was sitting on the couch with a bowl of oatmeal balanced on one hand.

 _Darn!_

Hermione had hoped Ginny would be too busy sleeping at this hour to interrogate her.

Ginny swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal before she waved her spoon at Hermione. "Report with the dirt, woman!"

"What specifically do you want to know?" she asked Ginny.

"Everything, duh! Who was he? How did it go? What did you do? Are you going to see him again?" her friend peppered her with questions.

Hermione bit back her desire to reveal to Ginny the identity of her blind date; however, she needed time to process everything that happened herself before she involved a third party opinion and judgement.

"No names, remember?" she taunted her matchmaker.

"You and Draco are no fun." Ginny pouted.

"It was pretty great though," Hermione told her friend, as she grabbed a yogurt from the refrigerator. "He was very interesting … and just so …" She trailed off with a sigh. All words were quite inadequate to describe Lucius Malfoy. Nothing seemed to quite fit how he made her feel.

"That good, huh?"

"Yeah."

"So what did he look like? Draco said he was older, but not like old man old, right?" Ginny pressed on.

Hermione could hardly recognize her voice as she spoke, "Oh, no. He was … very handsome. Very sexy. He has this crazy charisma. It was unnerving at first, but then … we ended up having a great time."

Ginny smirked. "I could tell when you didn't come home last night! I take it you'll be seeing each other again?"

"Not exactly," she said, swirling her spoon over the yogurt. "We didn't make any definite plans. Honestly, I think it was just a one time deal, which is why I agreed to go home with him in the first place."

Ginny's face scrunched with confusion. "Wait a minute, I thought you said it went great? How is it great if you decided for it to be a one-off?"

Hermione chewed on her lip. "It's kind of … complicated. He told me he'll write me, but I was less than enthusiastic about his offer."

"Okay, what?" The redhead sounded more frustrated than confused. "How do you end up having a great time and then don't want to see each other again?"

"I ruined it." Hermione sighed in disappointment, her appetite for breakfast gone. "He was trying to be nice this morning and I blew him off. In the moment, I thought he was either politely letting me down or was offering to make this a regular hook up. Then I went over the entire interaction and he was actually trying to offer me exactly what I wanted and now I feel stupid for turning him down. I guess I've been so used to rejection post-Ron that I misinterpreted all signals."

"Aw, don't feel bad. If he meant what he said, then he'll reach out," Ginny assured her. "At least he will if he doesn't buy into sex on the first date double standard, which would make him a total prick if he did."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I don't think he buys into it. He mentioned that he didn't, at any rate."

"Won't you please tell me who it was?" Ginny pleaded. "I'm dying here!"

"If I do, you have to promise to be open-minded," Hermione warned her.

"I promise, I promise! Just tell me."

"Well, Draco may not have been completely honest with you when he called this man his friend," Hermione began.

Ginny's expression darkened. "I don't like where this is going. Who is this guy then?"

"Draco's father."

The bowl that Ginny was holding toppled over, it's contents spilling all over Ginny's pajama-clad lap.

"Shit!" she cursed, grabbing at her wand and casting a cleaning charm.

Hermione waved her wand at the bits of oatmeal that dribbled to the floor.

"I told him hundred and seventy seven times that I didn't have any friends for his shady father! He shouldn't have misled me by telling me it's a friend when it's one person I refused to do this for," Ginny fumed.

"May I ask why?" Hermione inquired, a bit taken a back by her friend's strong reaction.

"It's all Draco's misplaced guilt. When his father was in Azkaban, his mum became sort of … reclusive. He was trying to cheer her up and encouraged her to become involved in local social clubs, like bird watching or something. Long story short, she met someone and left Mr. Malfoy for him. Draco feels so unreasonably responsible for it. Ever since his father got out, he's made it into some unholy mission to make it up to him."

"By setting him up on blind dates?" There was an undisguised note of skepticism in Hermione's voice. "I suppose there hasn't been much luck in that department since Draco's asked you to be indirectly involved?"

Ginny snorted. "I guess not, because who wants to be seen with a Death Eater these days?"

Hermione threw her a glare. "Um… did you forget something? You're friends with a former Death Eater. It's not contagious, you know."

"That's different," Ginny argued. "Draco was a kid then. No one holds anyone accountable for stuff they did when they were, like, sixteen. His father, on the other hand, was an adult who knew better. He earned every bit of his Azkaban sentence, which is why no self-respecting witch will want to be seen with him. Unless she's desperately gold-digging."

"I was seen with him, and I'm not suddenly dabbling in Dark Arts," Hermione pointed out.

"I'm sorry, but this screams midlife crisis for him. Plus, he has way too much baggage for you. A wife who left him while he was locked up is bound to leave all kinds of trust issues. If it's not midlife crisis, then it's a definite rebound. Again, this is why I didn't want to be involved in Draco's daddy matchmaking scheme."

"Well, I didn't notice any trust issues or rebounding. _I_ had a good time with him. Besides, I thought you wanted me to have fun on account of me becoming a crazy cat lady and all," Hermione countered, getting up and walking back to the kitchen to eat her meager breakfast at the counter. Her appetite still eluded her, but she knew she had to get something in her stomach before the train ride to Manchester.

Ginny followed her. "Fun for him, you mean. I don't want you to get your hopes up only for him to hurt you."

"Get my hopes up for what, Ginny? It was one date. You told me spontaneity is good for the soul, so I did something spontaneous. Like I said, it's probably a one-off anyway, so don't stress over his intentions."

"Not necessarily. I once thought being with Daemon was going to be a one-off, but we ended up dating for six months. You never know, right?"

Hermione gave Ginny a skeptical look. "Didn't you just tell me that it's a bad idea to see him?"

Yawning, the redhead leaned back against the counter. "It's too early to deal with this. Anyway, it's not my place to tell you not to see someone, especially after being all pushy about it. The thing is, I'm not surprised you clicked with someone more mature. I always thought you'd have more in common with an older wizard than anyone our age. I'm glad you had fun."

"I really did. Now I'd better get ready. I don't want to miss my train." Hermione said, rushing off to her room.

"Is Harry still going to drive you to the station?" Ginny called after her.

"He said he was."

"Then I'm going back to bed."

Hermione heard Ginny's bedroom door click shut and chuckled at her roommate. If only she could have stayed in bed to lounge around today … with a certain wizard between the sheets with her.

Shaking her head, she tried to let go of the image of Lucius in bed with her as she quickly showered and changed, but her brain wasn't cooperating. The date topped anything she had ever experienced and his revelations about seeing her in the spring were … very intriguing. That would explain why he didn't run for the hills when she showed up. If he was so interested in her – even if it was purely driven by sex at the time – why didn't he ever do anything about it?

What did it matter to her anyway? She had other things to concentrate on.

Hermione resolved not to think anymore about that wizard until the conference was over. After all, she was fairly sure he wasn't wasting his morning by reminiscing about her.

* * *

Even hours after she left his London home, Lucius could still smell her on him. It was impossible, he knew that because he showered this morning, washing off all the remnants of last night's delights; washing off her kisses and caresses; washing off the connection made over the course of one day. He knew it wasn't possible to have any physical traces of her whatsoever on him.

Yet her sweet fragrance still remained in his nostrils.

He closed his eyes and could almost picture her sitting next to him, exactly as she was when they were watching that film. Lucius allowed himself to relive the touch of her skin on his fingers, the taste of her kiss. The kiss that could not possibly be their first kiss, for it didn't feel new.

He could still smell her on him. Did she know what her fragrance did to him yesterday? Could she possibly know?

And now, despite the physical separation between them, did she possess enough magic to know what her fragrance did to him now, as he sat alone in his home contemplating? Remembering? Imagining? Could she see the flow of blood throughout his body then or now? The flow filling the vessels, arteries, and capillaries, bringing a turgid rise beneath the layers of his clothing?

Her fragrance ought to have dissipated, washed away … yet it remained. It persisted in the face of time, and he could still smell her on him. How could any magic explain it? Not a stitch of yesterday's clothing was present on his body, and his skin was cleansed of his experience, so how could her lingering scent be explained?

Could she sense that from where she was? Could she feel his cock in her own hand, as he now took it within his? Could she see the color change as the blood fills it and darkens the flesh into a solid reminder of the fluid nature of their experiences? Is she touching her own flesh as she imagines his? As he inhaled and recalled her scent, was she doing the same with his?

Yes, Lucius could still smell her upon him. But as he imagined lowering his face to her sex, and inhaling her arousal, with no doubts remaining that the gentle fragrance is the one that emanates from within her flesh – the feral scent of her arousal – and not any bottled concoction.

Did she feel him now, as Lucius imagined his lips parting, and his tongue emerging so as to penetrate her fleshy folds? Did she feel him as he tasted her arousal, the moisture on his tongue now indistinguishable from the moisture between her own vulva? Did she know that there is a direct conduit between his tongue and his memory, and once he tasted her, once her taste became part of him, he would never forget? Lucius will never be able to taste again without drawing from his memory her unique taste?

Her fragrance was still with him, and he imagined her arousal providing him with a new fragrance, as he parted her folds with his tongue and as his nose and face are buried in her, between her, upon her. He inhaled and taken in life, not mere oxygen, but life, made up of equal parts desire and respect. A life that was full of promise and something like hope. Just because his marriage was over didn't mean that his life was as well.

He inhaled her fragrance again. It made it easier to imagine that it was her hand upon his erect cock, stroking him, and not his own. It made it easier to imagine that it was his tongue now exploring her moist and hidden recesses, not her own hand or some object penetrating her. He wanted so much for it to be his mouth, his lips sucking her pink folds into his mouth, caressing them with his tongue, drawing designs upon her clitoris, writing letter by letter upon it to spell out his silent messages to her. Lucius would have no need for words as his tongue would write out his story upon her body.

As he released his climax upon his belly, he knew he could feel her tongue, tasting him as it draws so slowly and gently across his flesh. He could feel her lips surround the shaft as she tasted him and drank the last drops of his orgasm and savored him the same way he have savored her.

The light grew dim outside his window. Soon the sun would set and Lucius would be alone in the darkness. And yet not entirely so. She was not gone, and her fragrance was still within his nostrils, her taste still upon his lips. Her kiss a sweetness that lingered on his lips. Her fragrance filled his lungs and he was calm because of that vital scent.

Did she know any of this? Could she possibly guess? Did her magic let her see him now, lying half-nude with his arousal still lingering after his climax? Did she know that as they had sat beside one another yesterday, she brought life into him? Did she know that with her words, she was stroking him as they sat together? Did she know that with her fragrance, she was caressing his flesh? Touching his flesh? Imbuing his flesh with her own sex?

It's a pity she meant only to leave it at one night. A terrible pity. He never forced his attentions where they were clearly unwelcome. Never in his life had he ever had to ask for something twice. In fact, it was against his personal code to do so. Still … such a terrible pity. He didn't meet witches like her every day. If the circumstances were different, he wanted very much to see how their story would have played out.

* * *

On Tuesdays, as usual, the weekly family dinner at his mother's estate was almost always a blitzkrieg of interrogation and admonishment for Lucius. The Malfoy matriarch felt compelled to voice her disappointment and concern with Lucius's life and used these weekly gatherings to do so.

"Draco told me you were seeing someone last Sunday," she said, taking a long sip of wine.

 _Judas!_ Lucius thought, throwing his son a glare. Draco merely shrugged back. No one in their family knew how to keep a proper secret. Lucius knew that his mother blamed him for the failure of his marriage. In her traditional view, it was up to the man to keep his family together, no matter what.

"Yes, what of it?" Lucius tried to keep his tone light.

"Tell me about her. What's this one like?"

"Ginny said she's really smart … very intellectual. A bit younger than father," Draco chimed in.

"A bit? How much is a bit these days?" The elderly witch asked, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

Lucius slowly sipped his wine before answering, "By twenty-five years."

"Twenty-five years! You're not going to find a good lady of the manor, if you're blinded by lust. You need a woman, not a girl." She turned to Draco, "Draco, go have some dessert in the summer gardens."

Draco knew he was being dismissed from the conversation and stomped out with an air of a resentful adolescent, rather than a wizard in his early adulthood.

"Lucius," his mother began in familiar scolding tone, "you need to stop with foolish reactions and set your priorities straight. If you want to find a new wife, do so rationally and soberly. Don't be like every other middle-aged wizard who thinks with the wrong head and falls into a trap of some young floozy."

Lucius resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Mother, it was one date. She's lovely, but it's not serious enough to start planning matrimony. It's not something I'm interested in doing again, so do not fret on that account. I know you don't approve of my choices, but I don't feel like arguing with you tonight."

"What if it gets serious?" she asked.

It much too soon to think about it. In fact, they may not have to because Hermione Granger made it clear that she wasn't eager to pursue anything further with him. But he didn't want to add to his lists of failings.

He took another sip of wine. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

"And if it does, do you really think someone so young would be fit to be your wife? Your position comes with many responsibilities. Have your fun, but don't try to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear."

"Her age has nothing to do with my interest. I'm not interested in her because she makes me feel younger or for any other lecherous reasons." It wasn't entirely true, but it's not something his mother needs to know.

"So you're going to pursue this further?" she queried.

"Yes." The word defiantly flew out of his mouth before he could fully process the question. He really wished his mother would stop interfering or offering her unsolicited opinions on every decision he's made since receiving his freedom. Sometimes he wished she'd remained in Baden Baden to continue to take the waters.

His mother pursed her lips. "You're being foolish, Lucius. You're not as young as you like to think, though men seldom want to admit it. A woman twenty-five years your junior is more likely to follow in Narcissa's footsteps than you'd care to admit. Is that what you want? Another failed marriage? The House of Malfoy has been tainted enough without another divorce."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "She's not interested in marriage, Mother, and neither am I. Can we change the subject, please?"

Mrs. Malfoy smacked her lips in disapproval. "You're a grown man, Lucius. You can make your own choices. Take care, however, not to let your lust make a fool out of yourself. Wiser men than you have been reduced to dimwits by a pair of fine gams."

Lucius nodded in supposed agreement. He had a powerful urge to break his personal rule on this. He would reach out to Hermione Granger. Just once.

And he would do so tonight.

* * *

 **Coming up: second chance, second date! There are no rules when it comes to those two :-)**

 **Thank you all so very much for reading and sharing your impressions!**

 **Lana**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you all so much for reading and sharing your thoughts! I may not update as often as I'll be going away on vacation soon, which is strictly sans laptop. I'll make sure to update everything as soon as I'm back at the end of June :-)**

 **Now on to the second date…**

* * *

Hermione was pleasantly surprised to receive Lucius's owl. She didn't expect to hear from him so soon. Actually, the more she analyzed her rude behavior, the more she expected not to hear from him at all.

As it was, she found herself coming out of the dressing room in Wiltshire Country Club, walking past the sparkling blue pool towards the tennis courts. She and Lucius made plans to meet up here on Saturday for a game of tennis. Until he suggested it, Hermione was afraid that he might propose a night activity that would have potential leading back to his house. Not that it was an unpleasant prospect by itself, but she had made it clear that she was interested in dates, not discreet sex meetings. To her surprise and delight, he suggested a day date. According to Ginny, day dates were a good sign, because there was a flexibility with time. Day dates could either be cut short or extended depending on how good a time everyone was having. It also took the question of sex out of it since tennis was more of a neutral rather than romance-driven activity.

All week Hermione was in a state of euphoric anticipation. As she scanned the tennis area, her eyes instantly zeroed in on him. He hadn't spotted her yet and she tried to surprise him by tapping him on the shoulder. With amazing reflexes, without turning around, he grabbed her hand, eliciting a surprise gasp from her lips.

"Trying to sneak up on me?" he inquired, turning around.

"Trying, but not succeeding," she admitted, unable to suppress her happy smile at the contact. He still hadn't let go of her hand.

His eyes strayed down to her bare legs and Hermione tried not to blush. In her pre-date euphoria, she bought a new tennis dress for the occasion since her spandex shorts and faded work out tops seemed inappropriate for the venue.

"You look great," he said, returning his gaze back to her face.

Hermione felt her smile transform into a goofy grin, but she couldn't suppress it. "So do you," she returned.

That was an understatement, she thought, trying hard not to drool over the magnificent specimen of a man in front of her. He let go of her hand and gently touched her elbow, guiding her toward the bench with their equipment.

After a little warm-up, they began playing in earnest, for which Hermione was infinitely grateful since her thoughts bounced all around her head. She was afraid she wouldn't be a good conversationalist right now or worse, blurt out something embarrassing about the last time they were together. Focusing on the match knocked all those stray thoughts out of her head. Her full concentration directed on the bright yellow ball.

She took a serve. The ball spun in the air and Hermione took a strong swing at it with her racket, hitting it flat. The ball sailed across the court into the serving box, skimming low against the ground. There was no way anyone could return that … but he did. And so their set began.

Lucius proved to be the hardest opponent she ever had, which made the game much more interesting and challenging. They each ended up winning the same number of games, but he ultimately won the tiebreaker. By the end of which, Hermione thought she'd pass out of from exhaustion: her serving arm was throbbing and she could even feel her legs.

Lucius smugly shook her hand. "Thank you for the great match. Very well played."

"Seriously," she panted. "I can't believe this is you slightly rusty. I'd hate to see what you'd make of me on a court with more consistent practice."

"I'm certain you can handle anything I mete out," he remarked, smirking enticingly at her. "You could have easily beaten me just now if your serves and forehand had more spin to them. Hard serves are good for clinching final points, but they're not consistent. Learning to alternate between top and back spins is what keeps the opponent guessing."

Hermione adjusted her ponytail. "I was always sort of taught to hit fast and low to the ground, so it's harder for the opponent to return."

"It works, but not for the shots close to the net. I noticed that those tended to either hit the net or go out. I also noticed that you align yourself with each ball and allow the torque of your body and swing to hit the ball and increase its speed and power. If you used top spin, you'd be unstoppable. You already use it a bit without being aware of it. "

"Oh, you mean because I hit it from the bottom and it goes up and spins forward, like this." She hit the ball and watched it sail back into the court.

He nodded. "So you do know the principle behind it."

"I suppose so. I just never played like that before."

"Would you like me to show you?" Lucius asked. Then added, "Unless I've worn you out."

"I'm up for any challenge with you," Hermione blurted out, belatedly aware of how suggestive it sounded.

His self-satisfied smirk returned and remained, even as he set her on a series of challenges, such as hitting the low ball from the service line into the service box. She almost fell into a trance by his smooth, deep voice as he explained and demonstrated his instructions.

Lucius hit the ball into the air, expertly delivering it to the baseline. Hermione watched as it bounced high.

"See? It would only do that if aided by top spin, because the ball would hit the ground and keep spinning up and forward. It's almost impossible for an opponent to return such a shot," he pointed out.

Hermione nodded and copied his movements, applying more spin into her shots. "I see what you mean about the power," she told him with a grin. "It's what you used to make me lose! You either kept me parked at the baseline or at the net when you drop shot them. Tsk, tsk!"

"Are you ready to get some lunch now?" he asked.

Her eyes lit up. "Sure."

They walked off the court and parted at the dressing rooms. Hermione quickly showered and changed into a black lacy, cold-shoulder top and tightest pair of white pants she owned. She changed her options five times this morning, striving to go for a look that was sexy, yet not overtly so; she wanted to send a clear message that this was a date in her mind, not just two acquaintances getting together for a little one on one tennis.

The look on his face when he saw her allayed all her fears about the nature of this day. His eyes glittered bright and hungry as he looked her over, sending a wicked jet of heat though her. Their carefree rapport of this afternoon metamorphosed into the most palpable longing. Her breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. He stepped closer to her, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. His eyes consumed her, boiling the blood in her veins. The sheer desire in his eyes sapped away all her strength, which had little to do with the physical exertion of this afternoon.

Clearing his throat, Lucius shook his head. "This way," he said, putting a hand on the small of her back to escort her in the direction of the restaurant area. The contact of his hand on her made Hermione hyperaware of her skin. It took all of Hermione's willpower to shut down the wayward thoughts in her head. Nothing was going to happen between them tonight. She had made it clear that she needed to go slow. It wasn't a good idea to jump into sex just because they had a good time on their first date. There was no need to rush into anything physical until they got to know each other better. She was already falling for him way too fast for her own good.

They walked into the club's restaurant and were shown to a private terrace overlooking the fountain display with sparkling blue water.

As they lunched, they talked a little about their week and Hermione shared the highlights of her conference, thankful to have a topic that would force her to stop ogling her date.

"I have to thank you for inviting me here," she said, taking in the tranquil surroundings. "It feels great to get away from the city. I have to admit, I was surprised you wanted to see me again."

He looked confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

She took a long sip of her mimosa before stating the obvious, "I was a bit … bitchy with you that morning. You were being very … hospitable to me and I just … ran off. I feel like I owe you an apology for being so rude. I projected things on you that were obviously wrong."

"You don't owe me apologies. I am aware of the double-standards young women have to deal with," Lucius said.

"It's just that I heard some awful things on the subject of sex on first dates, even from people I consider friends, so I mistakenly thought that you shared those opinions."

"Like what?" he probed. "Just the usual lot of praising the wizard and vilifying the witch?"

She nodded. "That and things like, 'if she did it with you, she's done it on her other dates too'. I feel like the dating rules constantly keep changing. You read certain advice that encourage self-expression and not being bound by arbitrary rules. Then you read or hear another advice that contradicts the first. It's all 'do this' and 'avoid doing that'. We broke a lot of those rules on our date and still had a very good time … I think. I mean I did."

He fixed her with his steely gaze. "I did too. And I may be a lot of things, but I'm not a hypocrite. If I engage in something, I'm not going to turn around and think badly of my partner for doing the same. And fuck all these rules! Let's just break the rest of them! Life is about living on your terms, not somebody else's."

"Well said. Let's do it then!" Hermione reached for a ripe strawberry with her fork and took a small bite. "I suppose the first taboo topic would be marriage and kids."

"This is probably a deal-breaker, but it's not something I'm interested in doing again. It was a great part of my life and I wouldn't change it, but there's no desire to repeat the experience."

Thanks to Ginny, she already knew that. Solemnly nodding, Hermione agreed, "I'm not interested in doing it at all. People always tell me that I'm young and I'll change my mind, but it's not going to happen. I'm just not very maternal and just never, ever want to be pregnant. It's just not an experience I want to have."

Lucius looked much more relaxed. "So what's the next taboo topic?"

"Hmm, probably money or religion."

"I'm not very religious. As for money, my family's wine business is very successful. It goes back for centuries, so I couldn't spend it all, even if I tried."

Hermione nervously laughed. "I don't quite make that much, but I'm quite well off, I guess." She took another quick sip of her drink. "I don't know why people don't discuss these things more, actually."

"I don't either. I guess that leaves what? Pets?"

Her eyebrows rose up in surprise. "That's an off-limits topic?"

He shrugged. "Apparently. According to my son, it's right up there with politics and exes."

"Huh. I wonder why. People really should talk about it early on, just in case someone's allergic," she reasoned. "I used to have a half-cat, half-Kneazle. I'm not home enough to take on any pets now. I wouldn't want my roommate to be saddled with pet care. Although I saw the most gorgeous long-haired white cat in a shelter last month and was sorely tempted." She frowned. "I bet someone already adopted her though. I also like dogs and horses too. When I was younger, I used to spend summers with my grandparents and once they were looking after a neighbor's dalmatian and he was the most playful animal. What about you? Any furry friends on your end?"

His eyes twinkled in delight. "I grew up with horses. Very noble creatures. Narcissa liked peacocks, but those animals were so stupid. They're very territorial too and used to try to fight their own reflections in french doors and windows."

Hermione laughed at the image.

He went on, "I have a pair of gray great danes now, Cash and Tango. By necessity though I keep a colony of neutered feral cats. They're good for keeping mice off the estate. I have an art collection that I want to keep in its original condition as long as possible."

"Wow, kind of like at the Hermitage?" she asked, intrigued.

"Not quite as many. I'm not a crazy cat man with fifty cats running all over," he clarified.

"Actually, the Hermitage has seventy-four, so you'd be safe at fifty," she teased.

He looked pleasantly surprised. "How do you know that?"

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound like a know-it-all," she apologized.

Lucius gave her a puzzled look. "You don't, and no need to apologize for being intelligent. There's nothing wrong with having a lot of knowledge and being proud of it. I'm forty-six and I wouldn't know how many cats Hermitage has."

"It can be annoying, I guess. I've always been made fun of for that," she quietly confessed. "Even Professor Snape became terribly annoyed with me once. More than once."

He sneered. "That's his problem. Hogwarts's standards have been declining since my time there. In my day, there was nothing wrong with showing off your knowledge. Nowadays, everyone wants to play at being humble and play down their accomplishments. It's so tiresome. I say, there's nothing wrong with flaunting your best features. Now, did you discover this on a tour or did you read it somewhere?"

"For Christmas once I received this amazing 800-page art book on the Hermitage Museum and the Winter Palace," she told him. "It catalogues the entire art collection. It also mentioned how the cats were first brought over in 1745 and how the caretakers' duties evolved. It's rather cute. They don't have to chase mice anymore either since their presence is enough to deter the vermin. I just adore those art books. I can spend hours pouring over them. I have one on Florence and the Louvre as well, but I'm missing the one on the Vatican, so that's next on my list."

"Did you ever want to see it in person?" he asked.

"Of course. But when I travel there's never enough time. Did you know I've been to Paris to two different conferences and hardly saw anything? Once was on a Tuesday, so Louvre was closed and all I did was do the quick tour of Les Invalides and Eiffel Tower. I always think I'll return to those places again and do all the things I couldn't do when I was there on business. But then when I'm on holiday, the last thing I want to do is travel. I do so much of it for work that I have no energy for it at other times. I just always sort of end up staying home and hanging out with friends." She ruefully smiled at him.

"You have plenty of time for that."

She changed the subject. "I love your dogs' names. I never met anyone who had great danes. I'd love to meet them." She hurried to add, "Someday, I mean. If that's okay with you."

"Oh, that would be very okay with me," he said in a low, husky voice.

Blush was creeping over her cheeks again and Hermione fervently hoped that he didn't notice.

Mercifully, he didn't pursue the subject further and suggested they take a walk. A walk turned into drinks, which turned into dinner. Several times, she tried to pay for the bill, but he deliberately reached for it before she had a chance to and kept it carefully tilted away from her gaze. Before Hermione knew it, the sun had set. She told him she'd take a Knight Bus into the city, but Lucius insisted on driving her home. And who was she to decline spending more time with him?

Once they were parked outside her apartment, they continued to talk until it was well past midnight.

"I think we broke another rule here," she said as he walked her to her door. "I don't think even second dates are supposed to last all day, so we're on a roll."

"It's the theme of our time together – broken rules. However, some rules are better off broken."

"I couldn't agree more," Hermione said, smiling through her stifled yawn. Having woken up way too early in anticipation of this day with him, it was getting rather late for her. She drew out her wand when they reached her door.

"This is me," she told him, looking up at him. Although he hadn't initiated much physical contact with her all day, she had been longing for a goodnight kiss, hoping his distance had to do with respecting her request about slowing things down and not because he found the chemistry lacking between them.

"I had so much fun today, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione said in near whisper.

Lucius leaned over her. One of his hands came up to gently stroke the skin of her shoulder. She could see the flare of appreciation in his eyes.

"Lucius," he corrected her, looking at her with an intensity that she found almost frightening.

"May I kiss you?" he asked.

Hermione silently nodded, licking her lips.

They have kissed many times on that first date and yet she felt such a thrill, as though it were a very first time.

Lowering his head, Lucius claimed her lips with his. Hermione's hands lightly touched his shoulders as she edged closer to him. His own arms came to wrap around her waist, holding her captive, and her skin nearly combusted from the heat. When his tongue swept over hers, she nearly lost her ability to stand. All too soon, he stepped away from her.

"May I call on you tomorrow? Around noon, if it's not too soon?" he asked softly, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers.

 _You can call on me anytime._

"Of course it's not too soon," she said aloud.

"Then I'll see you tomorrow at noon." He turned to leave.

Hermione tugged him back. "One more." She raised her mouth to his and he readily accepted her invitation, but this kiss was too brief.

"Good night," he said, kissing her cheek.

"Good night," she echoed as she unlocked the door with a wave of her wand.

Quietly, walking through the dark flat, she walked to the living room window that faced the street. Hermione watched him get into his car and drive away until he was out of sight.

She missed him already.

* * *

 **There are no rules when it comes to Mr. Malfoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

"I never heard people exchange goodnights for a whole hour," Ginny's remarked by way of greeting as soon as Hermione walked through the door.

Hermione felt her cheeks grow warm. "You were listening?"

Ginny shrugged. "Can't blame me for being curious. He sounded … normal enough."

"Normal enough?" She laughed. "What did you think he was going to do? Perform dark magic on our doormat?"

"I just … never mind."

Uh-oh. Hermione recognized the Molly Weasley look in her friend's eyes.

"Just say it, Ginny."

The redhead folded her arms over her chest. "I was just curious why he's not dating someone his age. He's not just older, he's got couple of decades and then some on you. It's just that I can see that you're smitten with him and you did accept a promotion, which coincidentally just happens to allow you not to have to travel as much. It would be terrible for you to feel so strongly about him, only for it to be just a midlife crisis to him."

Hermione held up her hands. "Whoa. Slow down. Yes, I love spending time with him, but that's not why I accepted my editing promotion. It'll allow me more time to focus on my own research. I can even get a cat now, if I wanted to. As to your other point, why should age matter in our case? It's not like he was specifically looking for someone younger regardless of compatibility. How is it a midlife crisis if he's not with me to stroke his ego or to feel younger, or whatever?"

"Okay, okay. Your unconventional approach to this is a bit alarming, you two aren't about to elope for your one month anniversary, are you?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head.

Ginny didn't look as amused though. "Look, if this was anyone else, I wouldn't be trying to act like my mother, but since it is _Lucius Malfoy_ , I wish you'd slow down. Not that he'll ever admit it, but to this day Draco still carries all kinds of issues growing up with that for a father."

Hermione didn't know what to say to that and right now she didn't want to even think about it. She just wanted to enjoy this. "I can't help how I feel and I'm not going to play games to disguise my feelings. He just does it for me."

Ginny smirked, her eyes glittering with mischief. "Apparently he does it best by tying you to the bed."

"I wish I had never, ever told you that," Hermione joked, as she flopped down on her bed and threw a pillow at her roommate.

"So have you two tried to repeat that night?"

Hermione felt her body shiver in remembrance. "Not yet," she answered, clutching another pillow to her chest. Just thinking about it made her giddy with anticipation.

Ginny wagged her eyebrows at her. "Not yet, huh? Do you think he'll be all slow and romantic this time or just ravish you?"

"You know for someone who's having so many reservations about me being with him, you are very curious about the naughty details."

"Duh! I'm always curious about those details. I've had one colossal failure after another in that department. Let me live vicariously through someone who has an exciting sex life," Ginny said.

"Well, Lucius and I don't have a sex life at the moment. We're taking it slow. It's kind of exciting actually," Hermione gushed. "The best part is that there's no pressure from Lucius at all. I've never been with someone who didn't feel like he was entitled to it."

Ginny tossed the pillow back at Hermione and turned to go back to her room. "Sound like a winner. Just don't get carried away."

 _Easier said than done!_

* * *

Lucius loathed Mondays. One could always count on bad news, and this was no exception.

"Draco, I told you if this happens again you have to fire these simpletons. I never had so much problems with shipments in the last twenty years as we've had this year alone. This is unacceptable," Lucius ranted.

"I know, I know. I sacked Gilbert. Oh, and Grandmother owled. She's scheduled a dinner event this Saturday." With a wink, he added, "She wrote that she specifically invited an old lady friend of yours, Pansy's aunt on her father's side."

Lucius frowned, unhappy with the change of plans. He was looking forward to the weekend with his brilliant witch.

"Violet and I used to be prefects in our year at Hogwarts," he said when he saw Draco still looking at him for some sort of elaboration. "In the future, tell your grandmother that she can't demand my attendance at her dinners with so little regard for my previous plans."

"Oh, yes, you have your hands full with Ginny's friend. I noticed that you've been staying in the city a lot," Draco slyly remarked.

Lucius arched his brow. "Miss having Lowndes House to yourself?"

He smirked. "Not as much as certain witches. Is it serious then?"

The older wizard really didn't know how to respond to that. "Could be." He wanted it to be.

"So who is she? Ginny always gets a cheshire grin on her face whenever I ask her but stubbornly refuses to say a thing."

Lucius wasn't sure how his son would feel about him dating a former schoolmate of his, so he treaded lightly. "I'll give you a hint: you went to school with her."

Draco glared. "That's not a hint. Do you know how many students we had in our year? Give me a real hint, like what House was she in?"

"The one which you let consistently beat yours for the Quidditch Cup," he quipped.

His son grimaced. "Gryffindor had some homely witches in my year. I can't think of a single one you'd be remotely interested in. Unless someone had a face transplant."

"Well, neither you nor I thought much of her … back then."

Draco furrowed his brows in concentration. "So it's someone you didn't care for then that you do now. Someone Ginny said was brilliant, very good-looking, highly accomplished, and mature … hmm… this is hard."

"Emphasis on brilliant. She consistently scored higher than you."

Draco let out a snide laugh. "Only one person did that and it couldn't possibly be Granger. Good one, Father."

"I'm not joking."

His son stammered, flummoxed, "B-but … she's my friend's roommate … she's p-plain and … so far up her own arse."

"Watch your mouth. There's nothing plain about her."

"Well, she does like the same boring stuff you do, so there's that." He grinned at Lucius. "Grandmother is going to lose her shit! She probably wants you to rekindle something with Pansy's aunt."

"My mother doesn't get a vote in this, and there's no chance of me rekindling anything with Violet. That's ancient history."

"Maybe Grandmother thinks you're done with Granger by now. You've only been seeing each other for like a month."

"We're going tonight to the opening of the Picasso exhibit, so I'll be staying the night in the city again," Lucius said, giving his son a warning look. "That means no overnight guests for you."

Smirking, Draco ignored his last statement. "A Picasso exhibit? How exciting. I guess not all dates can be as romantic as mine are."

"Well, thanks to your Grandmother, I'll have to cancel my plans for Saturday now," Lucius grumbled. He really hated Mondays.

"You're in a foul mood. It's only one day. It's not like Granger would put out this early on anyway."

Lucius muttered, "Shows what you know."

"Over-share. But listen, it'll be a good business opportunity to see Pansy's aunt. She owns wineries in Douro Valley that she may be interested in selling."

"Well, it never hurts to catch up with an old acquaintance," Lucius agreed.

Except he really wanted to spend the whole weekend with Hermione Granger. She's become the best part of his days.

* * *

"That exhibit was so amazing!" Hermione raved once they've settled into Lucius's car. "And I'm not even a fan of Cubism."

They were finally alone for the first time all night and Lucius just wanted to stay like that for a while since they wouldn't be seeing much of each other over the weekend.

When they said all they could about the exhibit, she looked up at him with pleading eyes.

"You haven't kissed me yet," she said softly, looking deeply into his eyes.

He smirked before moving in slowly, licking his lips just before he pressed the softest of kisses against hers. The sound of her sweet sigh went all through him and Lucius pressed again, parting his lips against hers as she did the same. He kissed her again and again gradually sucking on her bottom lip. She opened eagerly for him and slid her tongue against his until the kiss grew so passionate that he feared they would explode from the intensity of it. When he pulled back for air, she clutched to him and reached for him again.

"I should take you home," he hoarsely said, pulling away from her.

"A-alright," she managed, swaying slightly towards him across the console.

His body ached. The taste of her lingered on his tongue, nearly drugging him. It was torture but he promised to go slow. Ravishing her in his car was definitely not slow. He tried to focus on navigating through heavy traffic. The frequent stops made it impossible not to give in to her ripe mouth, which begged to be kissed.

"I wish you could stay the night," she whispered, lightly nipping his ear.

"Don't tempt me," he growled, letting one of his hands stray to her knee.

"Why not?" She chuckled. "Maybe I like tempting you."

"Mercy, Hermione. You have no idea what I want to do to you right now. You arouse me beyond reason."

She glanced down at his lap, placing her hand shyly on his thigh. "All this just from kissing me?"

"Indeed."

Hermione inched her hand higher to his groin, then suddenly became bashful and stopped.

"You can touch me. You don't have to be shy." He took her hand in his and slid it up along his thigh. She pressed her hand along the outline of his hardening cock and cupped him.

Lucius removed his hand from hers, thrilled that she continued to touch him. He stopped at another red light and immediately embraced her. Hermione whimpered into his mouth as he ravaged her with kisses. He kissed her like he was starving for the taste of her and pulled away only when the light changed again. Her curious fingers continued to explore him throughout the entire journey to her flat. When they arrived, he walked her to her door as he usually did. Lucius meant to contain his passion as he kissed her goodnight, but she was kissing him back so ardently that, instead of slowing down, he was twenty seconds away from Apparating them to his bedroom.

"Would you like to come in?" There was that pleading tone in her voice again that was too seductive to ignore.

"I'd love to, but I'm not sure it's a very wise idea," he replied,.

"I am." She kissed him again. "Please … come. You wouldn't have to stay very long."

Against his better judgment, Lucius gave in to his baser instincts and followed her inside. A lecherous part of him was hoping he'll get to see more of that lacy black bra he caught a brief glimpse of when she bent down earlier.

She gave him a quick tour of the place, which ended in her bedroom by her desk. Lucius's mind reeled as she pulled his face down to hers for a passionate kiss.

"Mmm…" He hummed almost inaudibly at the softness of the witch's mouth under his own. The taste of her was driving him to the brink of madness. He groaned and one of his hands went to Hermione's waist, pulling her closer. His other hand went to the back of her head, cupping it for a moment. Hesitantly, her hands went to his hips. Her touch set Lucius off and his hand tangled in her hair.

Kissing her felt better than breathing.

Brushing one hand down the back of her neck, Lucius pressed her body harder against her desk.

"Lucius," she breathed out against his neck, her fingers gripping the front of his shirt.

"Yes?" He leaned down to kiss her again, moving both hands to the small of her back, slipping them under the silk fabric of her shirt and stroking her smooth, heated skin.

She kissed him along his jaw, then down over the sensitive skin of his throat and neck.

The Pureblood wizard groaned, tipping his head back, his blond hair cascading halfway down his back. His hand moved lower to stroke the subtle curve of her bottom through her skirt.

She let out one of her charming half-gasps, half-sighs. Lucius would never get tired of hearing that flattering sound from her lips. He was losing himself fast in her.

Her hands started to undo the buttons of his shirt from the bottom to the top.

Hermione slowly slipped her hand down his chest, over the strong, supple skin she found there. Pressing her face into Lucius's neck, she kissed it a few times, breathing heavily against him, before moving her hand to cup his throbbing cock through his trousers. How he wished he could vanish those abhorrent things!

"Hermione," he breathed out, pushing himself against her hand. "It's not a good idea. I have only so much self-control."

"I want to … just let me touch you … please."

Lucius nodded and lowered his face, kissing her hard again. He felt her shiver at the way he kissed her, taking her tongue into his mouth. His own hands roved freely over her chest.

"You are intoxicating," he mumbled as their lips collided feverishly again.

"Mmm!" Hermione licked his lips. "Lucius … please. I want to touch you … see you."

Pulling the zipper open, Hermione dipped her hand into his trousers, cupping Lucius's cock with a groan.

Lucius was amused when he heard her gasp in surprise. Hermione pulled away so that she could look Lucius over his entire body, his chest, down to his firm abdominals, and at the gap where her own hand disappeared. She gave him a firm squeeze.

"Oh fuck yes …" he gasped.

Hermione kept her head raised, studying how Lucius moved to her touch. She seemed to be fascinated by his reactions … fascinated by him …wanting to make him feel good.

Twisting her hands around his cock, Hermione moaned. Lucius closed his eyes in pleasure, feeling her fumble with his trousers before yanking them down, exposing himself completely to her eyes. She pushed him to sit down in her chair, then resumed her experimental touches. His head fell back as his hips started to rise rhythmically in tune to her strokes.

She took her time, changing her ministrations: sometimes using firm jerks, sometimes caressing his shaft with just the tips of her fingers, sometimes rubbing just the head. Lucius shuddered quietly with delight, opening his eyes to watch the pretty witch pleasure him.

Lucius's hands gripped the edge of her desk, his knuckles white. "Right there ... so good … there, yes!" His lips parted as he quickly panted.

Massaging her hand over the sleek head, Hermione was dedicated to only watching her hands move on his cock, propelling him towards oblivion.

"You are the sexiest wizard in the world…" she whispered to him, her voice husky. She leaned over and kissed the center of his exposed chest.

One of Lucius's hands went to the back of Hermione's head, tangling in her curls. "I'm so close," he grunted out.

"I want to see you come all over my hands," she told him.

A soft, strangled noise escaped his lips. "Yes, just like that!" he moaned, his voice shaking. His cock pulsed in Hermione's hand just before Lucius was swept away in tidal wave of a blinding orgasm.

She continued to watch him. Her brown eyes wide as he came into her hands, coating her fingers with warm, sticky fluid.

"Wow," she whispered, amazed. The entire process seemed to thrill her. Had any woman ever showed so much enthusiasm at pleasing him?

Once Lucius recovered, he pulled Hermione into his lap.

"You," he whispered, their foreheads touched as he fought to catch his breath.

Closing her eyes lightly as they breathed against one another, Hermione sighed in contentment.

Of all the hand jobs Lucius had ever received in his life, this one was different. He felt like Hermione had drawn something out of him … something he had given up on ever feeling.

She cast a cleaning charm on her hands before curling her arms around Lucius's neck and pulling him in for another kiss, as she ran her fingers through his hair.

They heard the entrance door open and slam.

Hermione looked terribly embarrassed. "Um … looks like Ginny's home. I guess we don't have much privacy anymore."

Lucius laughed and kissed her again. "I think it's a blessing in disguise. I truly contemplated Apparating you back to my house and having my wicked way with you."

She blushed and kissed Lucius sweetly on the cheek. "That doesn't sound too unbearable."

"I gave you my word to take it slow."

"And we have. We also agreed not to follow any rules. If we feel something, we should just go with it."

"Speaking of feelings, what are your feelings on seeing other people?" he inquired, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

She looked nervous, distressed even. "Well, I'm not seeing anyone else, but if you … if you want to … then … it's your choice." Lucius could see the tears glistening in her eyes as she struggled to finish the sentence.

He rushed to clarify, "I'm only asking because I'm not interested in anyone else. Only one witch has been on my mind lately."

She immediately brightened. "Oh? What a coincidence. Because there's only one wizard I want to be with."

"Lucky him."

"Lucky you," she corrected him.

Smiling, he kissed her slowly, getting lost in her sweetness again.

For the first time since his release from Azkaban, Lucius felt truly happy to be alive.

* * *

 **Thank you for all the wonderful support for all my stories! You guys are amazing! I'll update more next month after I come back from Portugal. If you don't hear from me by the end of July, assume there's a HEA for all my stories :-)**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	6. Chapter 6

***Disclaimer:** **All characters and canon situations belong to J.K. Rowling. I make no profit by writing and posting this story.**

* * *

Hermione sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around Lucius's neck, snuggling closer to him. They have managed to extract themselves from her desk chair long enough to move to a more comfortable position on the bed.

"This weekend is going to be interminable without you," she said.

He gently ran his hand down her back, setting off a cascade of shivers through her body. "I'll be thinking of you the whole time."

"We can't do anything next week unless it's before Thursday, because that's when I leave for a conference in Riga. It's through the weekend." She tried not to sound petulant.

Lucius's grey eyes glimmered at her. " _A_ conference? That's putting it rather modestly. You're the keynote speaker, Miss Granger. And what makes you think I'm not interested in coming along?"

She smiled into his shoulder. "You really want to? We probably won't see much of each other during the day."

"I can entertain myself. I haven't been to Riga since '88. It'll be great to see how the city changed since then."

Hermione basked with pleasure. "I'd love it if you could come. It's my first time going, so you'll have to show me around. What brought you to the city in '88?"

Lucius leaned over her, bracing himself with his elbow. "That. Is. A secret."

"Tell me. Please?" she insisted. "It's not anything sinister, is it?"

"Extremely," he said with a grave expression, then laughed. "No, not really. Unless you find Quidditch European Cup sinister, which they do in some circles."

She playfully swatted him. "You're too much, you know that?"

"It's true. During that competition, a certain former Minister of Magic met the witch for whom he left his long-time girlfriend. It was quite the scandal."

Hermione put on a mock-fierce face. "I hope you're not planning to follow his example."

He cupped her jaw in his hand and gazed deeply into her eyes. "I'm very much happily taken."

She brushed her fingertip over his lips. "I am happy too. Happiest I've been in a really long time. Of course, it means our match-makers did something right and we have to get them one hell of a Christmas present."

Lucius chuckled softly, sending more tingles down her spine. His lips descended to hers, teasing her softly, then boldly slipping his tongue inside as his passion increased. Their kiss went on and on. A million of emotions swirled around in her heart. Something very special was happening between them. It felt as though she and Lucius were sealing an unspoken promise to each other.

His hands dove under her skirt, pulling down her knickers. He teased her by sliding one finger inside her, then two. He stroked her firmly, bringing her to the brink of orgasm before pulling back again. Lucius did this as many times as it took for her to beg him for release. And then he granted it to her.

"You're so beautiful when you come for me. I love hearing you scream my name," he said, smiling slyly. He continued to lightly stroke her, calming her body.

Hermione reached for him, pulling him on top of her. "Please, Lucius. I want you so much," she crooned in his ear, her hands urgently stroking him over his clothes. "Haven't we've been slow enough?"

"We have indeed," he agreed. "But I'm afraid I am woefully unprepared."

She summoned a box from her bedside table and handed a package to him, thanking her foresight when she went shopping last week.

"Please, Lucius. I need to feel you inside me."

Not bothering with removing the rest of his clothes, Lucius pulled down his trousers and obliged Hermione without further delay, pushing deep inside. Hermione moaned in delight and wrapped her legs around him.

He moaned in response. "I'm going to keep fucking you until you beg me to stop."

"You feel so perfect, I don't think I'll want you to stop," she replied.

Taking it as a challenge, he drove into her, over and over. At first, he drew out each stroke, prolonging each thrust. Then his movements quickened. Hermione urged him on, begging for more. Her words, so different from her timidity during their first encounter, seemed to spur him on until he pounded into her with wild frenzy.

"Come for me," he demanded.

His authoritarian tone triggered her second orgasm of the night. Uninhibited, she screamed out her release, clutching fistfuls of his shirt tails. Lucius thrust into her several more times, before groaning out her name. Despite their use of contraception, Hermione thought she could still feel something warm trickle inside her.

She nearly laughed out loud at her overactive imagination. Even if their birth control method should fail, she was religiously taking her pregnancy prevention potion, so they were doubly protected on that front.

Careful not to crush her under his body, Lucius rolled off her and quickly disposed of the condom before returning to her side and stretching out beside her. He propped his head on his hand and studied her. Hermione wanted to tell him so much, but words seemed inadequate.

"It is a great compliment to me to have you express your passion so vocally," he said at last.

Her hand flew to her mouth. "Oh, my Gosh, Ginny's home! I didn't use any silencing charms! Do you think she heard us?"

"Every dirty detail," he joked and ducked to dodge her swatting arm.

Lucius drew her into his arms and kissed her again.

When the kiss ended, he reluctantly sat up. "I should go."

Hermione frowned. "Must you really? You can stay the night here, you know." She reached for him again.

He turned to her. "Believe me, there's nothing I want more, but I don't think your roommate would appreciate an impromptu guest."

"You're right," she groaned out. "It's not fair."

"We have Riga to look forward to. There, we'll have night after night all to ourselves." He winked at her, adjusting his clothing. "You can be as loud as you want then."

She threw a pillow at him before setting her own clothes into their proper place and walked him out.

For the rest of the weekend, Hermione glowed. New romance raged in her. Her cheeks were rosier, and even in her laughter and conversation there was something new and daring. All this time she was a rosebud, but now she finally felt herself blossom into a full-fledged womanhood. She was transported into another world; a world of completeness and magic. It seemed to her that she gained an understanding of something previously unknown to her. It was an atmosphere of lightness and giddiness.

Was it possible? Was she falling in love so soon?

* * *

"Guess who's _The Spectator's_ latest scoop?" Ginny said in a sing-song voice as she waved the glossy magazine at Hermione during their Sunday brunch in one of their favorite restaurants.

 _The Spectator_ was one step above being a trashy tabloid, so Hermione hardly ever bothered reading it. She didn't like how they continued to intrude into private lives of others. Both Harry and Draco have repeatedly found themselves on the cover with various speculations about their respective romances. It was hardly ever accurate. Ginny herself had shown contempt for the publication, so why was she excited about it now?

Hermione took the magazine. On the cover was a Quidditch player with a very attractive witch beside him. The story boldly announced their betrothal and details over upcoming nuptials.

"Ginny, why do you have this?" she asked. "Who are they and why are we supporting this muck?"

Her roommate made a face. "I normally wouldn't have bothered, but Draco's publicist showed it to him and he urged me to give you a heads up."

Despite Ginny's explanation, Hermione was still puzzled. "What does that have to do with us though? And more importantly, Draco has a publicist?" She giggled at the thought.

"His grandmother hired one for the whole family because of all the press constantly harassing them and publishing rubbish … it's a long story … Anyway, it has nothing to do with us, but everything to do with _you_ ," Ginny announced with a dramatic finger twirl in Hermione's direction.

Hermione scanned the cover again, but failed to find anything of relevance to her. "How?"

Ginny opened the magazine and flipped through the pages, then tapped at the article.

 _SPOTTED: LUCIUS MALFOY PLAYING THE FIELD!_

 _One thing is certain about Malfoy men is that they don't stay single for long. Newly divorced, Lucius Malfoy may soon join his playboy son on the list of Britain's Most Eligible Bachelors. Released from Azkaban this past January, Mr. Malfoy was spotted playing tennis with a mysterious brunette last month. According to our source at Wiltshire Country Club, the couple spent several hours cavorting on the courts before wandering off to a private luncheon. While Mr. Malfoy refused to comment about the new witch in his life, a close family friend confirmed that he is indeed dating again. There is some speculation that the mystery witch could be the former mistress for whom Mr. Malfoy left his wife, but our source insists that this latest conquest is too young to fit that theory._

 _Whoever she is, she is not the only witch in Lucius Malfoy's life. At his mother's dinner party last night, it didn't escape notice of several guests that the controversial wizard paid special attention to the stunning Lady Violet Parkinson-Knatchbull. The two were widely reputed to be sweethearts during their time in Hogwarts. There were even reports of Mr. Malfoy proposing to her the summer after their graduation. Lady Parkinson-Knatchbull, however, spurned his advances and went on to have several high-profile romances before settling down with Nicholas Knatchbull, Viscount of Athlone. But with the old Viscount dead and Mr. Malfoy newly single, perhaps it's time to fan the old flames._

Hermione's stomach turned. Bile rose in her throat. Her appetite fled completely. Her euphoria of Friday night seemed a distant memory. That explained Lucius's sudden cancellation for Saturday … for the entire weekend. He was spending it with Violet Parkinson. Alone?

But how could he? He was the one who brought up exclusivity by saying he didn't want to see other people. Had he changed his mind after one dinner party?

"I don't feel well. I should go," she lamely excused herself and rushed out of the restaurant.

"Hermione! Wait up!" Ginny called after her.

She paid her no attention and dismally walked back to their flat, feeling a great deal more tired than the time of day allowed.

When she walked through her door, she was shocked to find Draco casually reclining on the couch in the living room.

"How did you get in here?" she asked in lieu of greeting.

"Ginny let me. She came here looking for you, but you weren't back, so she freaked and texted me." He held up his mobile. "She had to go to the rehearsal for the charity thing her Quidditch team's doing, so sadly she won't be chasing you through London today. That is my happy task."

"Draco, go away, please. I'm not in the mood for you today."

He gave her an arrogant smirk. It didn't have the same charm on his face as it did on his father's. "You have to hear this out, so you're going to have to get in the mood. And sit down. I hate talking to people when they're standing over me."

With a sigh, she sat down next to him.

Draco sat up. "Listen, you can't lose your mind over these things. Part of being with a Malfoy is dealing with this sort of scrutiny and attention. They always print rubbish about him and me. You're friends with Potter, you've seen first hand what it's like. You can't stop it or control it. You can only fight back or ignore it. And since you're not in the position to fight back now, I suggest you ignore it."

She tried to compose herself. "I know, but it was just … jarring. You try reading about yourself as though you're just another notch on someone's bedpost."

Draco cringed. "Do refrain from mentioning anything bed related in reference to my father. And yes, it's typical of the stuff they print. My mother had to deal with it all through her marriage. It's how it is. When you're the girlfriend, they speculate about your marriage. When you're married, they look for pregnancy at every turn. When you're married with children, then the divorce rumors start. It's what sells. Our publicist plants stories and publishes statements only to counteract the most damaging gossip; he's adamant about not addressing every silly rumor. It's defensive and ineffective. It applies to you as well. If you're going to be with him, you can't blanch every time an article comes out speculating about his love life."

"You're right." Hermione knew he was making sense, but it still hurt.

"Look, until you get used to the idea, you'd better keep this thing with him quiet," Draco suggested. "It'll get worse when they find out you're the mysterious witch. They'll go mad for the real story."

"How we're supposed to keep it quiet?" she asked him. "We haven't really been trying to. It's only by sheer luck that they don't know it's really me."

"Well, Ginny says you travel a lot for work, right?"

"Right. Not as much anymore, but I still do. So what?"

"So see each other when you travel. You'll have more privacy to go out abroad. When you're home, just Floo to each other's places and stay in for your domestic dates," Draco said as though it was the most obvious solution in the world.

"That … that sounds like a really good idea, actually," Hermione agreed.

He rolled his eyes. "Of course, it is. I came up with it. You can even attend things together here, just be sure to arrive and leave separately." He paused, then looked uneasy. "The thing is, you won't be able to keep it up forever, Granger. Don't get me wrong, this can last years but eventually people will find out. If you're this stressed out about one lousy article, then what are you going to do when they're printing something more vile? Imagine them getting a photo of you with a male friend, hugging or something. Know what they'll say? They'll say you're cheating, flirting, and everything else. It will affect more than you is what I'm saying. Understand?"

The reality of the situation sank into her.

Draco went on, "Ginny always said you were mature for your age. This is your first test of it. If you can't handle this, you'd best end it now. It won't get easier from this point on. My mother had to deal with it all her life. It never stopped. It's what comes with his position as the Earl of Wiltshire. Gossip and publicity will always follow us. It's up to you to decide if you want that in your life as well."

"I've seen them hound Harry. If Lucius has to deal with that, I am sorry for him," she said.

"Then don't take everything they print personally. He had a good time with a friend, suddenly it's love." He snorted at the notion. "It's ludicrous, right?"

Hermione nodded. "I didn't mean to make Ginny worry. It was just … unexpected. I'm fine now, really. I think it's rather insightful of you to suggest keeping things private for now. If I'm not ready to read about myself as the 'mysterious brunette', then I'm definitely not ready to have my name and picture splashed all over these things. Can you just … not tell Lucius about this."

Draco rolled his eyes, but agreed. "I'm not a tea-bagger, Granger. Besides, I have better things to do than discuss every little thing that happens to me all day."

He stood up to leave. "Just do me a favor in return, get me two more front row tickets to Ginny's fashion show. Couple of my friends want to stop by and support the witches of Quidditch."

It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes. "It's for charity, to raise money, not to hand out like party favors to your friends."

He paused at the doorway. "Come now, Granger. Don't you think you owe me a little reward for all this girl-talk?"

"Okay, okay, I'll your tickets."

With a mocking bow, he left, leaving Hermione alone with her turbulent emotions and new insecurities.

Did she really want her life to become a media circus?

* * *

 **Hermione gets her first downside of dating a Malfoy, but things are too good to let this little snag get in their way.**

 **Thank you all for reading and reviewing. To the dear guest reviewer, who requested a D/G side-pairing, you'll get your wish!**

 **Hope everybody had a fun weekend :)**

 **Lana**


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you all for you great support and interest in this story!**

* * *

The clock chimed ten when the door to Lucius's office opened, distracting him from the letter he almost finished writing. A bare leg seductively slithered along the wooden door, followed by the rest of the witch in a red dress.

Violet always knew how to make an entrance. Except her feminine wiles were utterly lost on Lucius as she sauntered up to his desk and provocatively perched on the edge.

"Still working?" she asked.

"As always," was the answer she received.

"Oh, poo! I was hoping to entice you away for a nightcap." She pouted. Undoubtedly this usually got her exactly what she wanted.

Lucius turned back to his letter. "I have to finish this before Friday."

"Oh, yes," Violet purred. "You're leaving for your witch's conference. How very supportive of you." She traced her red polished finger along his sleeve.

"All the more reason for you to come out to the Blue Room with me tonight. I was hoping to properly thank you for all your help with this winery venture," she cooed. "I can't believe how quickly you've filed for permits already."

"No need to thank me, Violet," he said. "I told you, I'd help."

"Will you be there when they come to survey it?"

Lucius gave brisk nod, setting the quill aside as he finished the letter. "Of course."

"That's good. Now don't be so tiresome. Come to the Blue Room with me to toast our success."

Not wanting to wound her vanity, Lucius reluctantly agreed. There was no harm in one drink and on Friday he'll have a long weekend with the most lovely witch. His mood became lighter at the thought of her. He could almost smell her seductive fragrance again. The days without Hermione had been torturous. He thought of little else but how she felt in his arms … so delicate … all softness and warmness. And she was his, all his.

Lucius hardly heard a word from Violet's mouth since they've arrived to the Blue Room. His thoughts were still consumed with Hermione even as he clinked his Firewhisky to Violet's glass of wine.

She still droned on about the vineyards in Douro Valley that she planned on transforming into a winery. Her hand slowly ran down the buttons on his shirt. He swiftly grasped her wandering hand in his to halt her unwelcome exploration.

"Violet, please." he said sternly.

She whispered intensely in his ear, "Lucius, you don't have to pretend. I've missed you. Do you think I've forgotten how much fun we used to have together?" Her face bent closer to his and her lips parted in expectant anticipation.

"Violet, I think you've had too much to drink," Lucius said, putting acceptable social distance back between them. She reclaimed her seat with great alacrity.

"Not at all." She let out a sultry laugh and placed her hand on his knee. "Remember the night the Dark Lord came back? If he had the decency to wait a few more hours before summoning you to that dreadful place, we might have finished our favorite dance." Her hand squeezed his thigh. "At least now we can pick up where we left off. It's even better now actually. Nicky is no longer around to play the Argus and you're finally free of that frigid milquetoast."

He was just about to set the presumptuous wench straight when he saw her. It was as though he conjured her up so often all evening that she had no choice but to show up now. Except she looked positively horrified to see him. The next second she whirled around and fled.

* * *

Hermione's heart broke in her chest. Her eyes burned with tears she was trying so hard to suppress. She didn't see it. She didn't see it. The man she was falling in love with was not letting some other witch cling all over him like a barnacle. Who knows how much she didn't see or how much she interrupted?

She cursed Ginny for convincing her to come out for a girls' night out, cursed her for setting her up on the blind date that led to this, and cursed the amount of Blue Room's signature test tube cocktails she consumed tonight in her festive, celebratory mood that now slowed down her progress towards exit. Most of all, she cursed Lucius Malfoy and his Other Woman.

A horrible thought occurred to Hermione. What if _she_ was the other woman? What if he was lying to her about being available? She hadn't been to the Manor since they started seeing each other, so who knew what his true living situation was.

A hand suddenly wrapped around her arm and pulled her back.

"Hermione, slow down. Let me give you a ride home, so I can explain," Lucius said. His patronizing tone riled her.

"I don't need an explanation. I saw it with my own eyes, Lucius," she hissed at him, trying not to make their row look too obvious to the other patrons. "You said you were working late and I find you out with another woman. Contrary to what you may think of me, I'm not an idiot. I know exactly what it means!"

"Come now, I wasn't lying. Violet insisted on buying me a drink as a thank you for helping her with the winery project. She got carried away with her reminiscing. Nothing happened. I made it very clear I had no interest in her whatsoever."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest. "If you made it so clear, then what was her hand doing on your leg?"

His face was ashen. "Now you know I wouldn't have let anything happen. If you don't trust me with that, then this is another conversation entirely."

She grimaced. "Meaning?"

"Meaning if you believe your imagination or assumptions more than my words, then we need to reevaluate our situation," he ominously clarified. "I have agreed to a work on a joint business project together with her. It means I'll be spending a significant amount of time in her company. I can't have you jumping to conclusions every time that has to happen."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Hermione demanded.

"Hermione, I'm not in the habit of running my business decisions past anyone. If you think our liaison means otherwise, you're wrong," he coldly told her. "My personal life never interferes with my professional one."

"So I'm supposed to be okay with her pawing at you?" she snarked at him.

"No. She crossed the line. But you must trust me to know that I wouldn't!"

"So you've never cheated on your wife with Lady Violet?" Hermione didn't know what had possessed her to ask this question. Somewhere in her mind, since she had read that article in _The Spectator_ , she had wondered. It was a quiet whisper in the recesses of her mind, but now it demanded to be heard … and answered.

His eyes widened, then he looked away, the muscle in his jaw twitched. "Hermione, what happened in my marriage had nothing to do with us. That situation is entirely incomparable to ours. It was a dynastic union. It wasn't … us."

It wasn't an answer, but it told her all she needed to know.

The air in the room became unbearably heavy. Hermione could feel the blood draining from her face and pool somewhere at her feet. She was not going to cry. She wouldn't let him see how much he hurt her.

Turning to Lucius, she said, "You ask me to trust you, but how can I? It's only a matter of time before you'll do the same thing to me … with the same woman."

His eyes were full of emotion as he shook his head. "Hermione, that would never happen. If I can't convince you, then I don't see how we can move forward."

Hermione took a deep breath. A sad realization dawned on her.

They were breaking up. Their romance was over before it could fully flourish.

"So then … we don't," she concluded.

He looked away. "Perhaps you should take the time to think things over. There is no point in making decisions in anger."

Tears clouded her vision as she spoke, "Like you said, I don't see how I can move forward if my boyfriend is going to be finding himself in compromising positions with the woman he cheated on his wife with. I don't see what would stop you from doing the same under even less commitment to adhere to."

She turned and walked away, silently hoping he'll follow. He'll take her home and explain everything.

But he didn't follow.

Tears that the young witch had been holding back finally fell down her cheeks as she walked home. When she arrived, she sank down onto her bed and finally submitted to her sorrow. The room soon filled with her desperate, heartbroken sobs. She was so angry for losing herself in him so soon, angry for trusting with her heart so casually to a man she should have been most weary of, angry for still loving him.

He was going to be hell to get over. There was just no one quite like Lucius Malfoy. And there never will be.

Next day, with a heavy heart, she set out for Riga.

Alone.

* * *

Hermione held her head high as she strolled into the ballroom with a long, dark runway. After weeks of crying her eyes out at home, she finally let Ginny convince her to come out and support her and her team in their charitable endeavor. As she approached her front row seat, Draco Malfoy's coterie wolf-whistled in her direction. She looked irritated, but was rather pleased. Ginny was right to loan Hermione her new, short cobalt number with the highest pair of silver heels she ever worn. Just because her heart was dying inside didn't mean that she had to look haggard.

"Damn, Granger, maybe you should be on the runway and not in the audience," Theodore Nott told her, leaning over Draco.

"No lie," Draco concurred. "Doesn't Granger look nice, Father?"

Hermione froze. She didn't see him. He must have entered after her.

His voice came from a row behind the young people. "Since I'm not a young wizard ruled by my hormones, I'm not easily impressed with witches who display their wares like common streetwalkers."

"Don't listen to him, Granger. He's too old to appreciate anybody's wares," Theodore quipped.

Draco gave her a tight smile. "If you're wondering why Mother divorced him, this is Exhibit A."

Hermione didn't comment on anything, but turned to looked back at Lucius. The cold indifference in his eyes and his disdainful sneer was impossible to miss. This was the Death Eater she had known for most of her life; it was not the man she was falling in love with all summer.

She gave him a glare of her own and turned back to the front, begging for the show to begin.

When it finally did, Ginny Weasley stole the show, wowing even her most cynical critics. She loped down the catwalk in lacy lingerie and sheer dresses, eliciting whoops and cheers from the male members of the audience. In the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Draco applauding, open-mouthed and impressed as he stared after Ginny's retreating form.

"That's a side of little Ginny Weasley I didn't know existed," said Theodore, nudging Draco.

"Yeah, who knew Ginny … smoldering, sexy temptress," Draco mumbled.

Theodore snorted. "Since when are you so poetic?"

Draco didn't answer, but continued to stare off into space, only becoming animated again when Ginny made her appearance on the runway again. Hermione recognized that look in his eyes. It's how she looked at Lucius when he wasn't making disparaging remarks about her. She chanced a quick glance behind her, Lucius's eyes burned back into hers, then haughtily looked away.

After the show, Hermione congratulated Ginny, who looked completely dazed to find herself the toast of London. Draco and his friends gathered round her, showering her with compliments of how brilliant she was. Draco especially seemed glued to her side. Hermione remembered the time when another pair of Malfoy gray eyes used to look at her with same admiration. Now they only stared at her in contempt.

"Miss Granger," Lucius drawled.

"What do you want?" she responded, looking into her champagne glass.

"I wish to speak to you," he said, trying to step closer to her, but she evaded him.

"Really, Mr. Malfoy, you have said enough tonight. I'm surprised you have anything to say to witches who display 'their wares like common streetwalkers'. Have a good evening."

"You have to let me explain," he insisted.

Hermione looked at him again. There was an uncertainty in his eyes, a sadness.

"This isn't a proper place to explain anything," she said more gently before stalking off, missing the way he stared after her until she was out of sight.

* * *

 **Lucius and Hermione faced the first test of their relationship, but will it be their last?**


	8. Chapter 8

Hermione was on her way to Medici Café for her favorite breakfast of waffles and hot chocolate when Ginny arrived home.

"Looks like Runway Queen had a rough night," she greeted her roommate in light tone. After revealing the details about her first date with Lucius, Hermione reverted to a more private policy. Some things in a relationship just weren't meant to be shared, no matter badly she wanted to rant about the events of last night and the Blue Room. The only thing her friend knew about her break-up was that she and Lucius had a row.

"The after-party nearly did me in. Draco was nice enough to take me home," Ginny explained.

"I saw you two looking rather cozy," Hermione teased.

Ginny's eyes sparkled. "He tried to kiss me."

Hermione resisted the urge to remark at the irony of how two witches could be having a completely different experiences with Malfoy wizards.

"Tried? I take it he didn't succeed."

"Of course not," Ginny said. "I can't make it easy for him. I can't believe he was so bold as to do it in a room full of people. Mum will have a heart attack if it makes a _Witch Weekly._ "

"That's not why you didn't…"

"Merlin, no!" She yawned. "I like him. A lot. But I don't think it's worth to ruin a good friendship for temporary lust. I mean look at you and Ron. It was never the same after you ended things. Ditto for Harry and me. I don't want to have the same thing happen with Draco." Ginny yawned again.

"Ugh, I doubt it'll come to that. Draco strikes me as more mature than those two. And how do you know it's temporary?"

Ginny shrugged. "I can't think about it now. I'm going to bed. I take it you're on your way to reconcile with your own hot blond."

Hermione gave her a sad smile and gave a noncommittal answer before bidding Ginny a good day.

Arriving at Medici Café, she took her usual table by the window and placed her usual order of waffles. As she drank her hot chocolate, she dove into her new novel, waiting for her food to arrive. But her hunger kept her from concentrating on the words she read.

No, it wasn't hunger. As Hermione swallowed a long sip of her drink, all she could think of was Lucius Malfoy — of his lips, of his hands. His voice. His eyes. Like _frost…_

She stared out the window, lost in her memories. Then she blinked in disbelief at the man crossing the street and striding in the direction of the café.

The blond, perfectly coifed hair, the confident gait, the lofty countenance — there was no mistaking him. It was definitely Lucius. Hermione watched him silently, almost dreamily, through the window, as one does a shark behind the shatter-proof aquarium glass. The contours of his shoulders shifted tensely as he came closer and closer towards the café doors.

Hermione blinked and shook her head. _He's coming in here!_

She slouched down low in her chair, endeavoring to obscure her face between her hair and her book.

 _Maybe he won't notice me,_ she prayed foolishly. Her heart was racing. The bell on the door jingled, and a light summer breeze followed him into the café.

She waited, but nothing happened. She could hear his voice, low yet somehow usurping the upper register chatter of the café's patrons. Cautiously, she peeked over her novel.

He stood at the counter with his back to her, speaking idly with the waitress. She was leaning forward on her elbows, smiling and twirling her lovely chestnut hair between her fingers. _Could she be any more obvious?_

But really, Hermione couldn't blame her. She was sure she looked at least as foolish on her dates with him. Wizards like that, who have that kind of effect on women — reducing them to puddles with little more than a side-glance and half-smile — they must go through life thinking every woman in the world is shy as a schoolgirl, giggling compulsively at their comments and jokes. They don't realize the power they have over opposite sex. Or maybe they do… Either way, gazing over at him from behind her absurd disguise, Hermione knew she'd never met a man who affected her as severely as Lucius Malfoy.

As if sensing her gaze, Lucius pivoted in her direction. She cursed herself for staring like a dolt and shrank lower in her chair.

"Miss Granger." He didn't sound surprised to see her here. His voice was warm, not at all like his slight last night. She lowered her book.

"Mr. Malfoy." She widened her eyes in mock surprise. "I didn't know you come here."

He stepped toward her table, placing his hand on the chair across from her. "I trust you made it home safe last night."

She dropped her gaze. She could already feel herself slipping back under his spell.

"Yes, sir." _Obviously, or we wouldn't be having this conversation._

 _Sir?_ She really had no clue how formal she should be around him in public. Was it more proper to address him like that or with the title of his peerage? That presented its own dilemma: does one utilize 'my Lord' or 'Your Lordship' in oral address? Perhaps she should have stuck with Mister.

His brow was knitted slightly. Hermione tilted her head up at him, expecting him to move on.

W _hy's he staring at me like that?_

"You have cream on your nose, Miss Granger."

Her cheeks flushed, and she buried her nose and mouth in the napkin. When Hermione looked up again, he was smirking. And not without a hint of vindictive irony, the waitress chose that moment to come over and deliver her obscenely un-dainty breakfast, plopping the plate down right on top of her book. Lucius's face twitched, suppressing a grin. Having already blushed herself to maximum redness, Hermione merely sustained the hue, staring wordlessly at the sweet waffles before her.

"May I sit here?" he asked.

She nodded. "Please."

Hermione knew she couldn't very well make a scene here, and part of her was morbidly curious about how he would explain himself. If he would at all. It seemed unlikely he would air out their dirty linen in such a public setting. Perhaps they'd make polite small-talk and get on their way.

He sat down and unfolded the other napkin, fastidiously straightening the cutlery.

"Coffee, Mr. Malfoy?" the waitress asked him.

Her voice startled Hermione. She actually managed to forget the woman was there. It was uncanny how completely his presence he consumed her focus — his gravity, his magnetism, his charisma, whatever it was. She supposed this waitress probably felt the same way. Women orbited him like moons, tidally locked by the force of his attentions.

"Yes, please."

The waitress trotted off and disappeared into the kitchen. Hermione raised her brow quizzically. Having finished his realignment of the fork and knife, Lucius focused his gaze on her.

Lowering his eyes to her heaping plate, he smiled. "If you have a sweet tooth, Miss Granger, you'll have to try their hvorost."

 _Their what?_

"Thank you," she breathed out, noisily plucking her novel from beneath the plate. "I think I'm fine with this though."

He leaned toward her. "It wasn't a suggestion."

 _What the hell?_

He signaled the nearest waiter and put in a double order. Her stomach turned over. She was so hungry — the smell of food was making her doubly anxious in front of him. But under those eyes, Hermione didn't think she could touch her waffles, let alone his _hvorost_ — whatever that was. The waitress returned with coffee, looking dismayed at having missed a chance to do his bidding.

 _Is she actually pouting?_ Hermione squinted. _She might have it worse than I do._

She set the mug down and waited to leave until he waved her off.

Lucius took a long, silent sip. "I came here hoping I'd run into you."

All this eye contact was getting tricky for her. He didn't ever seem to need to look at what he was doing. If she tried to follow suit, Hermione knew she'd wind up spilling hot chocolate all over herself.

He tilted his head. "There are some things from last night I'd like to get cleared up."

 _Right, our break-up._

"Like how I look like a streetwalker with my wares on display?" she couldn't help bringing that up again. It still stung that a man who was so adoring and understanding one moment could become so bitter and vindictive the next. She really didn't know him at all.

He folded his hands on the table. "When I can't use either magic or physical strength, I use my words to fight back. I took my anger out on you. It wasn't fair. I was rotten bastard to say it and I didn't mean it. Not one word. It was a stupid thing to say."

"Yes. It was very cruel," she agreed.

Across from her, he looked vaguely pensive and stormy. For once, his eyes were like cold water instead of solid ice. "I was angry at not hearing from you for ten days. I wanted to give you space to think things over, and then I became irrationally angry when you wouldn't acknowledge me. There you were, all youth and beauty … you could have any wizard you wanted. You could easily share your life with any of them, and I … I knew I was losing you, so I lashed out in the only way I could. It's not an excuse, but it's a defect I need to work on. I hope you can forgive me. I never wanted to embarrass you or to hurt you."

He relaxed in his chair. Hermione was still on pins and needles on hers.

"I don't want to hold a grudge over words," she said quietly, staring into her lap. "Consider yourself forgiven."

It didn't change the fact that they were still broken up.

He reached over to snatch a raspberry from her plate and popped it in his mouth, wiggling his eyebrows at her. She covered her mouth and laughed.

 _Cool and cunning Lucius Malfoy can joke around as well?_ She liked it and could almost let herself relax.

"You have a very pretty laugh," Lucius complimented her.

Her face grew hotter.

He didn't look so ominous anymore, but his gaze was still intense and fixed upon her. It felt almost like their first date again.

"How was the Riga conference?" he asked.

Hermione wanted to keep talking to him, if only to listen to his voice a little longer, but this small-talk getting awfully difficult. Were they supposed act like they were friends now or something? She wasn't sure what he wanted from her now that they were over.

"It went well," she replied, shrinking back in her chair.

Before he could ask any more questions, the waitress had returned with two little trays of hvorost. They looked a like a cross between a beignet and a mandrake root. He thanked her, and she trotted off again, her giddiness replenished.

"You're going to love this," he said, placing several fried pastries in front of her. "It's sweet, but not too sweet — with just a touch of bitterness."

He took a bite, closing his eyes, humming his approval. Hermione's exasperation receded. She bit off her own crispy, crumbly hunk. He was right — it was delicious. Though she supposed any food probably would've tasted magnificent to her at that point. The surface was hard and ridiculously crunchy. Between the two of them, it sounded like they were chewing mouthfuls of crisps, but the inside was creamy and a little bitter. Much better than the soggy waffles she ordered.

"What did you call this again?" she asked, gulping down her second bite.

"Hvorost," he said between crunches. "I presume you didn't try it in Latvia? When I was there, it was a staple in all the tea shops." He swallowed and swilled his coffee.

"No. I didn't get out much."

She stayed brooding in her room, crying bitter tears over a man who deserved no such consideration.

"They use real kefir here. Only place in the city that does," he remarked. His warmness had made a sudden and highly welcome return, and Hermione felt herself relaxing again. Somehow with food in front of him, he seemed a little less predatory and intimidating.

"Look, you've apologized. You don't have to keep up this tête-à-tête anymore. Consider us parting on good terms," she said.

He stopped chewing and rubbed the napkin on the corners of his mouth. "I don't want us to part on any terms."

Hermione's heart nearly stopped. His stare could have given her frostbite. She shuddered, but spoke again, "You could have fooled me. I may not have a lot of experience in relationships, but I know what a break-up looks like."

He cut her off, raising his palm, "I know I handled things in the Blue Room very badly, but I didn't want to lose you. I still don't." His eyes became warmer as they searched her face. "Things moved faster between us than either one of us had probably expected, which raised some unfair expectations. Our relationship is new and there are some things I had no right to expect of you. I demanded your absolute trust without giving you anything in return and not disclosing things from my past that might affect how you see me."

"I read _The Spectator's_ article about you and me … and Lady Violet," Hermione confessed. "For tabloid rubbish, it was eerily accurate."

He drew his mouth into a wry smile. "I hope I don't need to remind you about taking what you read with a grain of salt."

She shook her head, flushing. "I've had enough run-ins with Rita Skeeter to ignore muck. It's only when facts check out that I become concerned." Taking a deep breath, she went on, "I understand that you do not want to encourage speculation about your love life. I also know that if our relationship became public knowledge, it would create a firestorm in the press. Therefore, I don't mind keeping things quite and having as much privacy as we can while it's all so new with us. However, for this same reason, I don't know why you would want to flame gossip concerning your relationship with Lady Violet. It's one thing not to publicly acknowledge me at this point, but it's another to have someone else bandied about the press as the woman in your life. It's humiliating and I did feel threatened when I saw how comfortable she was being all over you."

He nodded. "I know we have important things to discuss in private. Why don't you come for tea later today at Lowndes House and we can clear the air? I have some things to explain to you and once you have all the information, you can decide if you're better off ending things with me."

"Um … okay." She picked at her hvorost, feeling rather uneasy and anxious with the silence that settled over them.

Lucius reached across the table again to steal another raspberry from her neglected waffles.

"I once knew a witch who was allergic to fruit," he mused, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. "Curious. And such a terrible shame." He popped the berry into his mouth. "Do you have any allergies?"

"No."

 _How can any of this possibly interest him?_ she wondered. _Why does he care?_

Her anxiety was on the verge of boiling over again. Her eyes danced around, avoiding his. He sipped his coffee and set the mug down beside her waffles, untouched and now stone-cold at the edge of the table. Hermione grimaced at them; she was too full from the hvorost to finish them.

"I think your eyes are larger than your stomach, Hermione," he spoke dryly. "Shall we have them bring you a box?"

Hermione watched in quiet disbelief as he actually snapped his fingers, and the waitress appeared at the side of their table with eagerness and obedience of a house-elf.

 _He definitely knows what he does to women,_ Hermione thought nervously.

"Box this up for Miss Granger, please." He laid an excessive amount of Galleons on the table.

Hermione started to decline, but he ignored her. His eyes were on his wristwatch, then he stood up.

"You'll excuse me, Hermione. I have an appointment. Will five o'clock work for you?"

She nodded again.

"Good. I'll see you then." He touched her shoulder. "I look forward to it."

When he walked out the door, the spell was lifted. Hermione exhaled slowly. Her mind was racing, trying to fit together all the strange, disparate pieces of the past twenty-four hours. Like the shard of a glass mirror, her hope that talking to him again might bring into focus some of her confusion had shattered, splintering into a thousand new, still-more vexing questions. She stared at the empty mug; a single dark stripe of coffee staining its porcelain exterior. It was like at any moment he might return to reclaim it.

Shivering, opened her book again and began reading.

When she returned home, Hermione must have tried on over a dozen outfits. What does one wear to a tea with an ex? Or almost an ex?

She didn't want to look overtly sexy for fear of sending the wrong message. Her outfit had to make it clear that she was coming for tea and nothing more.

"Hermione," Ginny knocked on her open door, sticking her head in. "I come bearing gifts from the Earl-who-makes-me-hurl."

"You mean your future father-in-law?" Hermione teased her.

The redhead cringed. "Her-mio-ne! You're so bad. Maybe I'll just keep these for myself." She held up a bouquet of Sunblaze roses. They were Hermione's favorite flowers with vivid pink edges accenting the sun yellow petals.

Hermione snatched them away, sticking her tongue out at Ginny. When the witch left her room, Hermione read the card. It had no message, only Lucius's name card.

Feeling sly, Hermione poked her head out the door. "Ginny!" she called out. "May I borrow your blue dress again?"

It may be only tea. They may not reconcile. But it didn't hurt to take a rule out of Ginny Weasley's playbook, and remind Lucius Malfoy of what he was missing. Besides, she needed her own armament if she had to spend more time under his dissecting eyes.

* * *

 **Thank you all for reading and sharing your comments! I can't believe this story has over 200 followers. You're the best :)**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hope everyone had a fun weekend. Now onward with reconciliation!**

 **Thank you all dear readers for reviewing! And thank you, Melanie and other guests to whom I couldn't personally respond.**

 **Let me know what you think of this chapter :)**

 **Lana**

* * *

Even as Lucius waited for Hermione to arrive, he missed her. It was the feeling he had become very accustomed to in the last ten, miserable days.

When he saw her this morning at Medici Café _,_ it was the closest thing to a sign he'd ever experienced. She hadn't been there all week, and just when he was about to give up on running into her, there she was.

He had to try to explain things to her. Losing her was one mistake he couldn't afford to make.

His first marriage was a practical arrangement; a duty he happily accepted. This felt nothing of the sort. It wasn't a duty but a dream – a beautiful, impractical daydream, that's what she was. But why couldn't he chose the dream over practicality at this point in his life? Just because the previous circumstances made it impossible to make such a choice in his youth, it didn't mean that he couldn't choose a different path now, so why deny himself that dream? Why not take the risk?

But did he really consider rebelling against all that had ordered forty-eight years of his life?

He feared now that he was more than merely attached to Hermione Granger. He was very much afraid that she had become fundamental to his happiness. It was a strange and alarming thought. Lucius had never actively looked for personal fulfillment and gratification. Well, perhaps he had when he a schoolboy at Hogwarts and assumed, with the boldness and arrogance of youth, that he could have anything and anyone he wished; the world was his oyster then. However, for many decades now, he never considered personal happiness to be important in comparison to his other duties and pursuits. After the war, he had seen others find it and, without fully realizing it, he had felt left behind as a relic of the past – of past era, of past ideals, of past conflicts – belonging neither to the present nor to the future. He felt as the last leaf of the fall, clinging and hanging on to the branch, insisting that it was not fall at all but late summer. Lucius resented this feeling but, in Hermione's company, it evaporated; it ceased to exist and only returned when he was away from her and forced to feel the full, formidable fury of his loneliness.

He walked to the window in the downstairs drawing room, and looked out. As if she sensed his longing, Hermione stepped out of the taxi and walked up to the door, ringing the bell. With uncharacteristic haste, Lucius raced to answer it, flinging the door open and inviting her in.

Throughout his life, he has had his fair share of beautiful women, but this witch was in a class by herself. That provocative blue dress of hers showed off her figure to perfection. His eyes couldn't decide whether to look longer at her breasts, derriere, or those long legs of hers.

Lucius held his breath, then recovered enough to speak, "I'm glad you could come. You look gorgeous."

She smiled shyly at him. "Thank you," she said, lowering her eyes in the most beguiling manner. "You're not too bad yourself. And thank you for the flowers." She leaned close to him to plant a small kiss on his cheek.

A rosy blush appeared on her cheeks. The questioning look in her eyes told him she was second-guessing her bold move. His pulse quickened at the sight of her parted lips and flushed cheeks, and Lucius was quite surprised to find himself struggling with his own composure. She was beautiful but, when it came to seduction, he was always in control. Kissing a witch was hardly enough to cause him to lose it.

Usually. Not this time. This time he was entering into an entirely uncharted territory.

* * *

Every color in the room seemed brighter around Lucius Malfoy to Hermione. She had the biggest urge to touch him again, but suppressed it. He led her into the drawing room and she took a seat on the sofa, keeping a considerable distance between their bodies, aptly avoiding any accidental touches. She didn't think she could control herself if he were to touch her.

As they drank their first cup, they made small-talk for a while. It was easy not to drown in his eyes when she wasn't directly looking at him. In fact, she was surprised how it almost felt like the old times.

"So I'm curious," Hermione began, "why you've invited me here."

He set his cup aside. "I want to explain some things to you. About my past."

"With Lady Violet?" she supplied.

"Yes." He cleared his throat. "I have given you an impression that I've committed adultery with her in the past. And that's not as simple as that."

"So, what was it?" Hermione asked, steeling herself for what his response might entail.

His jaw clenched. "My ex-wife had a rough time of it with Draco's birth. She was rarely interested in marital relations afterwards and expected me to take a mistress. It may seem unconventional to you, but for wizards of my social standings, it is not a controversial concept. Narcissa had a view that the wife wasn't expected to indulge certain fetishes or fulfill darker desires of a husband. She viewed all sexual experimentation as a realm of a mistress, not wife. As long as my liaisons were discreet and private, Narcissa had no qualms about Violet; she was quite happy having a conventional aristocratic marriage."

Hermione chewed on her lip. This wasn't as horrible as she imagined. "It wasn't an open marriage though, right?" she asked.

"No, it wasn't like that at all. More like a sanctioned, one-way adultery. Narcissa very much supported my involvement with Violet," he clarified.

"Is it something you'd expect in all of your relationships?"

He shook his head and rushed to explain, "Of course not. I just wanted you to know that my unfaithfulness didn't stem from any number of excuses. It's not a pattern of my behavior in relationships. It was just how my ex-wife understood our marital arrangement to be. There were no romantic bonds or attachments between us, so that's what she expected of our union after Draco's birth."

"Why didn't you marry Lady Violet then?" Hermione inquired. "She was your social equal, like any of the Black sisters. Why not marry someone who fulfills dynastic obligation and brings you personal happiness? Violet seemed like your best option at the time."

Lucius sighed, launching into a lengthy explanation, "My father highly disapproved of Violet. She was a witch with a past, and that was unacceptable to him. The bedded couldn't be wedded in his eyes. He wanted there to be no questions about the legitimacy of my offspring. I had to choose to either do my duty or throw everything I knew away for first love. I chose duty. My father told me that as his only heir I had to sacrifice certain personal pursuits for greater purpose. And although those sacrifices may hurt, it is a much more honorable thing to do right by your family than abandon it for a romantic illusion. Choosing a young romance didn't seem practical. When deciding on which course my life would take I had to choose the most obvious, most expected route.

"I chose that route and have been choosing it ever since … until after the war, obviously. The war made me see things … made me reevaluate my life … see my own fallibility, but … I can't say with absolute certainty that it morphed me into a completely changed man who can fulfill all your dreams and expectations. I cannot offer you false assurances. I can only hope that you are able to see that any person who lived to be my age is vastly complex, and although I have made many mistakes in my life, I hope I have learned from them.

"Now I am free of obligations to my name and family. I had done what was expected and am free to pursue my heart's desires now. The irony is, of course, that I am in the twilight of my life, but I am finally in a position to make the kind of choices that were impossible in my youth. I hadn't thought life would present me with such a gift again. I was given a second chance before and chose … wrongly. Then Draco and Miss Weasley set us up and … I became completely beguiled by you, simply just by talking to you. You lived through so much more horror and hardship than I ever had, and yet you accepted life and living. While I locked myself away from the world, you embraced it. The more time I spent with you, the more I wanted to live my life again."

It stuck Hermione that all he had revealed to her just now, he'd never told another living being. He was baring his soul to her and the realization of it threatened to bring tears to her eyes. The magnitude of her feelings for him terrified Hermione. She wasn't only in love with him; she irretrievably loved him with all her heart and there was no way to guard or deflect her feelings from him any longer. It was in this precise moment that she knew that there would be no way out of this entanglement with him.

Despite the past circumstances of their lives, she had come to really admire Lucius. He could have turned his back on his familial obligations in favor of personal gratification. He had the power and wealth to get away with it, but his sense of duty held firm despite other temptations. He was her age when he stepped up to take on responsibilities beyond his maturity. No matter where life took him, Lucius had always done everything in his power to protect his family. How could she not admire him for that? How could she not love him?

"I know you're a private person and I'm glad you trust me enough to be so open with me," Hermione told him. "I apologize for jumping to conclusions in the Blue Room and refusing to hear you out. I let my insecurities and fears get the best of me and I unfairly projected your past actions onto our relationship. It was completely unfair. I know that every relationship is different and one case of infidelity doesn't mean that this person will be unfaithful in subsequent relationships. I do, however, wish I'd have known that you have to work with an ex who still has feelings for you."

Lucius took her hand in his. "I want to earn your trust, and I'll do whatever it takes to do that. If working with Violet makes you uncomfortable, then I'll walk away front he project."

Her eyes widened, then Hermione shook her head. "I could never ask that of you. I don't want to be one of those women. You said that night that you don't let your personal life influence your professional one. Giving up a winery in Portugal would make you lose millions in potential profits."

He gazed at her, his eyes inscrutable as the cloudy skies outside. "I don't care about that. My business will be just fine without that. But I won't be fine without you. If a choice had to be made, I choose you."

A short laugh burst from her as tears sprang to her eyes. "You don't have to choose. I want you to do what is best for your business. I'm not a fan of you spending time with Violet alone outside of work, but I'm not going to insist that you stop working with her altogether."

She closed the distance between them and kissed him on the cheek again. He made an impatient sound and turned his head, capturing her mouth in a kiss. His tongue caressed her in playful strokes, teasing Hermione felt his hands splay across her back hold her to him. She never wanted to stop kissing him, as their mouths insatiably reacquainted with each other.

Lucius pulled away only long enough to be able to trace his fingers over her lips. "I want you to know that I didn't invite you here to seduce you, but I want you. Right now, in my bed. I want to hear your voice echo around my room as I make you come again and again."

In silence, Hermione stood up and pulled Lucius to his feet with her. She looked potently at the door and nodded in consent.

Lucius lifted her in his arms and her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Her hands sank into his muscled shoulders, gripping him tightly. His hold was gentle, but firm. He knew what he wanted, and he was taking it. The realization made Hermione kiss him even harder and he responded in kind, letting out a low rumble from his throat. The sound was so incredibly sexy, it made her stomach flip.

They tried to make it to the bedroom. Truly. But when Hermione noticed a dining saloon with a long mahogany table, she motioned impatiently to it. Quick on the uptake, Lucius placed her on the cool, sleek surface, slipping his hands down to massage her hips. Hermione's hands enmeshed themselves in his blonde hair as she continued to kiss him. She found herself craving more of him, surrendering completely to their mutual desire.

When his thumb skated over her clit, her eyes flew open and she squirmed in surprise. She didn't expect to feel his intimate touch so soon. His amazing hand scorched her, making her melt under its heat. Lucius's lack of calculated control indicated that he was feeling the same way. He nudged his head to the side to bite on her neck. Hermione threw her head back to offer more skin to his marauding mouth. Lucius welcomed it, pulling her as close as their bodies allowed with his hand between her thighs.

"I missed you," he whispered right before he bit hard on her shoulder.

"I missed you too," she moaned back.

Gently he pushed her back until she was lying on the table. Hermione looked up at Lucius, stunned as he lifted her dress and pulled her knickers down her legs. Within seconds, he was between her thighs, licking at her pussy. His mouth was hot against her, his strong tongue licking up and down with steady speed.

"Oooh! Maybe we should … skip this?" Hermione meekly asked, feeling self-conscious about receiving oral attentions. Ron said going down on her was unsanitary. He said it so casually, as if it all ought to have been obvious to her — obvious that her body was something dirty and undesirable to him.

And she believed him.

She could still hear him explaining how much she repulsed him. What he'd said stung her on the surface, but the poison went much deeper and stayed in her long afterward. Ginny and other witches of her acquaintance never heard their men complain of this act, so Hermione wondered if it was just her. She wondered if all men would feel this way about her. After all this time, she was still wondering. But Lucius was so perfect. Every move was just so right that it was easy to forget her hang-ups.

And his eyes … his burning eyes never left hers. So Hermione watched him eat her like she was his favorite dish in the world.

"Lucius," she moaned out, shaking.

His long strokes stopped immediately and he latched on to her clit, sucking with powerful force, making Hermione helplessly gasp.

That mouth of his was spectacular. It was all she could do to hold back her more embarrassing screams. She broke the eye contact and lay her head back on the table. Her hands roamed about, trying to grab at anything for some control. The table's surface was too sleek; the only feasible option was his head. Fisting her hands tightly in his hair, Hermione reveled in his groans. His appreciative noise made her grind herself more against his mouth, as he continued to suckle on her. She grasped his hair tighter and his tongue flicked at her clit in response. She jerked and gasped, feeling him smile against her. He did it again and received the same reaction. Feeling herself close to orgasm, her new confidence faltered. Hermione had never come with someone's mouth on her.

"Lucius, please … you have to sto—" Her weak protest was cut off by a swirl of his tongue on her clit as his grip on her thighs tightened and he kept her where she was. He tortured her with more hard sucks, and all she could do in response was shiver. So she gave in and just let herself relax. Lucius Malfoy was truly the best kisser in every sense of the word.

As her body rocketed towards her orgasm, Hermione released his hair and quickly leaned on her elbows to watch what he was doing.

"I'm going to come," she warned. Lucius's eyes continued to pierce hers as he licked and sucked on her clit.

She was almost there … almost there …

Then she reached the peak of her climb, and everything stopped. Her cry echoed around the empty room as her climax shot through her. She was twitching and writhing in his hands with each passing orgasmic wave. Lucius continued to hold her until she slowly came down and collapsed back on the table. Her eyes were closed, and Hermione thought she could fall asleep right there. She didn't want to move. She was sated … satisfied … complete. By the time she opened her eyes again, Lucius stood over her, watching her with tenderness.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye. Hermione tried with all her might not to cry, but she was too overwhelmed. His own expression was coated with lust.

"Take me," she whispered to him. He kissed her immediately before pulling her forward and unzipping her dress, sliding it over her head.

"This dress looks so good on you," he mumbled. "My cock almost burst when you walked through the door."

"I'm glad you like it," she said innocently.

"I like it better off." Lucius wasted no time in unlatching her strapless bra. Within moments Hermione was nude in his dining room.

He looked her over, shaking his head as he watched her lean back on her elbows, opening her thighs wide.

He unbuttoned his shirt. Hermione watched, wetting her lips, as it opened like the stage curtain of an opera house, revealing his abdominals in undulant overture; the stark recitativo stromentato of his chest and climaxing in the broad, knee-weakening aria of his shoulders.

"You're unbelievably sexy," she told him. He smiled and reached for his belt. In no time, he freed himself.

He moved swiftly, filling her in one movement. Hermione's fingers dug into his arms, and he let out a low moan, staying still for a moment. The pressure was almost painful as her tight muscles finally adjusted around him.

"Are you all right?" he asked, and she nodded in reply, smiling.

"I couldn't wait to be inside you. Ten days was too long," he said, kissing her neck.

Hermione wrapped her arms around him as he began to thrust inside her with excruciating slowness. Soon she was begging him to move harder. He happily complied, straightening out of her embrace to drive into her faster.

"Don't stop," she moaned, raising her hips to meet him thrust for thrust. She loved the way he pumped into her. His heated skin glistened over with a slight sheen of sweat. He continued to watch her face as he fucked her, his hands hot on her hips, digging deeper into her flesh. She could tell he was close: his body tense, ready to spring.

"You missed this?" he grunted through his teeth.

"Yes. You feel so good!" she responded, her body climbing higher and higher once more. "You're going to make me come again."

He ground harder into her. "Then come." He pounded faster and harder into her, seeking his own satisfaction.

When his hand touched her clit, Hermione exploded in another orgasmic blast. With an animalistic roar, Lucius followed her, filling her with his own release. Completely drained, he collapsed on top of her, and she held him to her chest.

"You're unbelievable," he said between his panting breaths.

"So are you," Hermione returned. "We should break up more often."

"I still maintain that we were never broken up," he said into her neck.

Lucius raised himself up to look into her face. A question lingered in his storm-gray depths for a second before he voiced his desires aloud, "Stay the night."

She tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. "Are you sure?"

"Would I have asked otherwise?"

In lieu of an answer, she kissed him.

"Is that a yes?" he asked.

"Yes."


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing! You are an awesome bunch. We can all agree from last chapter that Ron's a douche. Unfortunately, I'll have to subject you to his presence in this chapter. I'll make up for it, I promise!**

 **Let me know what you think :)**

 **Happy weekend,**

 **Lana**

* * *

Hermione lay exhausted on her lover's bed, completely spent after another round of lovemaking. The setting sun made the room appear almost lilac. Behind her, Lucius groaned and wrapped his arm around her waist, tenderly kissing her shoulder blade. He draped one leg over both of hers. She turned her head back to look at him, finding his warm gray irises fixated on her. She snuggled close into his embrace.

Her eyes began to close uncontrollably, but as she was about to drift off to sleep, he spoke, "May I ask you a rather personal question?"

"Of course."

His hand languidly traced over her thigh. "I noticed that you're not very keen on receiving oral sex, why is that?"

Her drowsy state quickly dissipated. " _Oh!_ I suppose it's because … Well, my last boyfriend found it unsanitary. That's what he called it." She let out a sad sigh.

He laughed. "Then he should find everything about sex repulsive. Sex is not supposed to be sanitary. Exchanging bodily fluids is by definition unsanitary, but if everyone was so squeamish, the human race would go extinct. And that's your only reason?"

"Yes. I had to wonder sometimes if it was me," she admitted.

"You're serious?"

She nodded, burying her face in the pillow.

Lucius turned her back to him. "Weasley was daft idiot for making you feel this way even once. I can prove to you that he couldn't possibly be more wrong."

"You already did," she said with a shy smile.

"Something tells me that as much as you enjoyed it, you're not fully convinced." He lay back down. "Up here, Miss Granger."

"Up where?"

"Straddle my face," he told her.

Hermione obeyed him. With his encouragement, she placed herself directly over him. She could feel the shift in his focus. He looked straight between her legs.

"You have the most beautiful pink pussy … so well proportioned," he said, running his hands up her legs.

Lucius began to kiss and place small bites up the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, soothing each bite with his tongue.

Hermione sighed in pleasure when he began to trace circles around her clit with the tip of his tongue. She was still sensitive from their previous romp and her bud ached under his ministrations. Unabashedly, she moaned as he swirled his tongue around her entrance and dipped it deep inside. Her inner walls clenched hungrily around it. Soon his tongue was replaced by two fingers, delving deeper. As his digits worked their way in and out of her, he sucked on her clit, stopping occasionally to reverently place kissed over and below it. Oh, he know just how well to work her dark pink nub, contrasting suction with light flicks. Above him, Hermione was already trembling uncontrollably. When his fingers found that special spot inside her, she could barely cry out as she came. He gave her one last firm lick before loosening his hold on her and letting her fall over to her side. Rolling on top of her, Lucius made quite a show of sucking and licking the two fingers that had given her so much pleasure.

"You see, my dear, real wizards love licking pussy. If they don't, that's their problem, not yours."

She grinned at him, before pulling him down for the longest kiss of her life.

* * *

Towards the end of July, Lucius had to go away to Lisbon for a week, and she busied herself with work. It was dull without him, but she enjoyed receiving his daily letters. He was as charming and witty on paper as he was in person.

One day as Hermione stepped out of the shower, a doorbell echoed around her flat. Haphazardly throwing on her clothes, she raced to answer it. To Hermione's surprise, Ron was standing outside the door.

"Hi!" she greeted him, ushering him in. "Are you here to see Ginny? She's not home, but you're welcome to wait for her."

He awkwardly walked in and looked around. "Ah, thanks. I'll wait. I'm actually here to invite you and her to Harry's surprise birthday party. I'm having my first photography exhibit on the thirtieth at nine, and at the stroke of midnight I thought we'd roll out the cake and turn it into a party for him." He handed her an invitation card with venue information.

"Wow. That's a really nice idea," she said. "And congratulations on the exhibit. I know how much you enjoyed photography as a hobby. Here, sit down. Would you like something to eat? Or drink?"

"No, I'm fine. And thanks." He sat down on the couch, rubbing his palms nervously on his legs. "So you'll come?"

 _Thirtieth … damn._ That was the day Lucius was coming back from Lisbon. Why did Harry's party had to be at the stroke of midnight? Why couldn't it be the night on the thirty-first like always?

Right, surprise part.

"I'd really like to. It sounds like a big night for you and Harry, but … my boyfriend is coming back from Portugal that day. I don't really know what our plans are but we sort of agreed to get together then."

"Well, I'd really like you to come. You don't have to stay the whole time. You can come right before midnight, so you won't have to cancel your plans," he suggested, looking wide-eyed and hopeful at her.

"Oh, well, I guess I can do that."

"So, you're seeing someone? Is it serious?"

She nodded. "Yes, it's pretty serious. Ginny actually set me up on a blind date with him last month. I thought it would be a one-time thing, but it became more…"

Ron's face was a strange mix of surprise and hurt. "You ever think about us? What it would be like if we were still together?"

"Ron, don't." She sighed in exasperation. She didn't want to answer that question for simple fact that the answer would be too cruel for his ears; Hermione never thought about that. Perhaps she did in those first few months after their break-up. Now it's been two years and, even if she wasn't with Lucius, she never felt those pangs of nostalgia.

"I did at first, but now… it's been such a long time, Ron. We've both moved on," she said.

"So, who is he? The bloke you're with, I mean. Do I know him?"

"You've definitely heard of him."

He cocked his head. "It's not Malfoy, is it? I saw photo of you sitting in front row with him at Ginny's show."

"No, it's not Draco." She nervously chewed on her lip, wishing he'd stop with his questions.

"So who? You can bring him to the show, if you want. I'm just curious."

Her palms began to sweat, but if she showed up with Lucius to the show, Ron would know anyway. It would be best to prepare him now to avoid any unpleasantries that a public reveal might present.

She gulped. "It's actually … it's …um… it's Lucius Malfoy." Her stomach nearly dropped to the floor as she heard herself say it aloud for the first time.

Ron froze. He blanched, then flushed tomato-red. "You're serious?"

Hermione weakly shook her head and looked away, silently praying for Ginny to march through the door and end this conversation.

"And Ginny set you up? What the hell was she thinking?" he asked.

Not sure if it was a rhetorical question or not, she still replied, "She didn't know it was him. It was really her and Draco that set us up. Ginny didn't know who his match was, and Draco didn't know she picked me. It's not a big deal. It worked out rather well actually. For all of us."

Ron shook his head. "Hermione, he's dangerous. I know Ginny's been chummy with Junior, but Lucius Malfoy is not a harmless, pathetic git like his son. That man is bad news!"

"Whoa! Watch it with the insults, Ron," she warned him, holding up her hand. "I know you don't like him, and I can understand that. Until my date with him, I really didn't think much of him either. But it's different, okay? I like him; he makes me happy."

Ron looked perplexed. "How is that even possible? You're the most famous Muggle-born witch, do you need to be reminded what he thinks of that? How do you know he's not after something? How do you know he doesn't go around behind your back calling you a Mudblood? How can you even be with somebody who thinks like that?"

"Enough, okay?" she said quietly. "If he was so repulsed by me, we wouldn't be together."

"Oh, come on! Don't be so naive. Hermione, I know you probably won't believe me, but I still love you—"

Mercifully, at this moment, Ginny breezed through the doorway. "Ron!" she shouted. "Aren't you a sly one? You never told me you were stopping by today. What's going on?"

Hermione stood up. "I have a lot of work to get done. I'll let you two catch up." She walked out of the room with a sinking feeling in her stomach. She wished it was one event she could skip, but she didn't want to hurt Harry by missing out on his party.

She was still conflicted on this topic when the big day arrived. After indulging in pasteis de Belem he brought back for her, she and Lucius predictably tumbled into bed together, happy to be reunited once more. Perceptive as ever, he picked up on her uneasiness as they still bathed in the afterglow on his bed. He listened attentively as Hermione laid out her dilemma bare before him.

"But we don't have to go together," Hermione concluded. "I have no idea what to tell my friends if they ask about us. I don't want lie, but … if we arrive and leave together, it'll be obvious and I'll look childish denying. Yet once something like this is out, there's no way to go back to that same level of privacy. It'll be out there for the public consumption." She nestled deeper into his chest.

Lucius folded his arms around her and laid a chaste kiss on her cheek. "You can tell them the truth, if you like."

Her eyes widened. She was shocked. "But that would mean, it's out there."

He nodded. "Obviously, I'd prefer that you not broadcast my sexual proclivities, but I'd also never force you to lie to your friends for me. It's a stormy petrel for abuse. I'll have none of it."

"You're really okay with us making a couple debut of sorts? Because I don't know who'll be at the exhibit and the party. I can't guarantee that it won't cause a media blitz the next day. Ginny has kept it quiet, obviously. I'm sure Harry would too. But everyone else? I doubt it."

Lucius shifted a little and leveled his gaze. "I don't mind. You can tell anyone you want. Or keep it our secret. Whatever you decide, I don't want you to feel as though you have to choose between me and your friends. They'll have to see us together sooner or later."

Hermione blushed Hester-red and hid her face against his shoulder, trying hard again not to replay Ron's earlier reaction. How would he be in person?

"Ron didn't take it well when I told him about us," she confessed.

Lucius's eyes flashed, but he stayed silent. She wondered what he was thinking, wishing she could read him as well as he read her.

He set his hand on her thigh. "Did he do something while I was away?"

 _How does he do that?_ Hermione bit her lip, and after trying half a moment to resist, told him the truth, "When he invited me, he told me he still loved me."

He squeezed the flesh of her thigh. "Of course he loves you. He knows it was a mistake of his life to let you go. Memories of you keep him awake at night. His desires drive him to near madness. He even fantasizes about you as he fucks other witches. He's contacted you when it was convenient for him and until he sees you with someone else, he'll think he stands a chance of winning you back." Lucius's hold tightened. "We'll be merciful. He'll see us together, and it will kill whatever false hopes he harbors."

Hermione noted a wicked grin flicker across his lips. "What are you up to?" she asked in suspicion.

"I'm not up to anything. Just let him see you. Let him see you with me. Happy, satisfied, safe. If any part of you north of your navel really matters to him," he caressed her leg, "he'll move on. He'll let you go."

"Is that what you would do if you were in his place?"

"Hardly. I'd kill to keep you. But I'm giving the boy the benefit of the doubt. I don't think he's half as mad for you as I am — and tonight, he's going to realize it."

She gave him a wry smile. "Doesn't sound very merciful to me. It sounds sadistic."

"It's both," he said, moving his hand back up to her waist. "Trust me, I would know."

She didn't ask him to elaborate. She just nodded. Who in heaven or hell could have spurned him? The mere thought of it, the mystery, made her throat tighten and her hair stand on end.

"Just as long as you're aware this will make us public."

He nodded darkly. "I'm very much aware. You mentioned it several times."

"I made it clear to him that I don't return his feelings, but I don't want to rub his face in our happiness. I don't need some kind of validation that I'm doing better than him on the romance front," Hermione said.

"I promise to be good." His words were sober, and his smile edged with a sneer. "So long as he respects you, Hermione, I'll be as gentle as a lamb."

A wolf in sheep's clothing.

* * *

Lucius flashed her a smirk, drawing her toward him as they walked through the door at Chelsea loft, where Ron's exhibit and Harry's surprise party were held. Immediately, the music struck her like an ocean's wave. The lights were low, which seemed an odd choice for a venue whose purpose was to show off photographs. The room was filled with people she didn't recognize. Hermione squinted, expecting Ron or Harry to pop up any minute before them. She counted to ten and saw no sign of either one. Breathing out in relief, she willed herself to relax as Lucius placed his hand in the small of her back.

They walked around looking at the photographs on the walls. One whole section was post-battle Hogwarts. At the end of the exhibit were photos of Weasley family members, then one particular photo nearly caused Hermione's jaw drop to the floor. She spun to look at Lucius, hoping to distract him, but it was too late. He'd seen it too. His face grew strict and impassive.

"It's you," he said.

Hermione blushed as red as molten metal. It was a photograph of her in black stockings, reclining on the bed with a large, feathered, red lady's fan covering her chest. Ron had taken it the night of a Masquerade Ball they attended three years ago. Although her mask was on, there was no disguising the fact that it was Hermione Granger, posing provocatively on a rumpled bed.

"Did you give him permission to use this?"

She buried her burning face in his shoulder. "No. He never mentioned it when he dropped off the invitations. It was a private moment and a private photo. I never meant for anyone to see it."

Lucius snaked his arm tighter around her, his touch simultaneously succoring and sinister. "Let me have a closer look."

"No, don't. Can you just take me home? I'm suddenly not in a surprise party mood. I'll just stop by Harry's tomorrow."

It was beyond mortifying and Lucius's silent perusal of that damning photo intensified her embarrassment even more. His ruminant eyes appraised it as he tilted his head.

Then he spoke, "Magnificent, isn't it? He captured your seductive playfulness perfectly here. And the play of light and shadows is exquisite. It will be a pity to destroy it."

Destroy it? She felt blood drain from her face. "You wouldn't," she managed. Hermione didn't want this photo here anymore than he did, but they had no right to destroy Ron's personal property. She'd just insist that he take it down.

"I must," Lucius said darkly. "I'll compensate him, of course. But it will not be displayed for all the world to see. After all, you forbade it."

"Yes, but … it's his photograph. Technically, he didn't need my permission to display it, as I willingly posed for it and allowed him to keep it."

He shook his head. "He owes you an apology."

"Yes, and he probably will once he finds out how unhappy I am that he did this."

"And then? What do expect me to do, Hermione? Let him parade you around like Lady Godiva? Let him sell it? Let him masturbate to you whenever a fancy strikes him? I won't have it."

"Please…" Hermione set her hands on his chest, grasping his robes, feeling the rough beat of his heart. "Just let it be."

His brow and mouth were still taut as a towline, but gradually, she watched his eyes begin to soften.

He cleared his throat. "Is that really what you want from me?"

She nodded warily. "Who cares what he does with this picture? It's not me. You have the real me."

He lowered his gaze upon her. His words were warm and dark, "How you paralyze me." Then Lucius passionately kissed her.

When they pulled away from each other, Hermione saw Ron, staring at them in horror before he crushed the champagne glass in his hand.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing! You've inspired me to finish my update earlier than I planned!**

 **On to the aftermath of Ron's stupidity...**

* * *

Someone shot a spell at the crystalline needles scattered all over the floor. Champagne flute immediately repaired itself. Hermione looked behind her and saw that the caster of the spell was Ginny. The redhead cautiously approached the group and placed herself between the two sides.

"Do try to be careful, Ron," Ginny chided her brother. "You don't want your guests to think you did that on purpose now, do you?" Her voice carried a subtle threatening note that was very reminiscent of Molly Weasley.

Ron ignored both his sister and the blond wizard, looking only at Hermione. "I'm glad you made it, Hermione." He stepped toward her, arms open for the obligatory hug. She moved awkwardly to reciprocate him; however, Lucius thrust an arm between them, waylaying Ron into a cold and ungainly handshake.

"Mr. Weasley," he rasped, "You're looking well."

Hermione looked at Ginny in alarm, who twisted her mouth into an unimpressed grimace. The irony was that Ron looked many things that night, but no one would say 'well' was one of them. His face was unshaven, his eyes bloodshot, and his wrinkled shirt tail had come untucked on one side.

"Malfoy," he grumbled, and they traded glares. "I'm so glad to see you, Hermione." He rose to his toes, peering at her over Lucius's shoulder. "I really missed you."

"Well, I was so busy, you know, with work and everything…"

"Yeah, I get it." He shrugged, his eyes dancing back to Lucius.

At this moment, Ginny noticed the photo and let out a strangled shriek. "What the … the hell?" she sputtered, gesturing with her cocktail glass. She quickly regained her vocal ability and blasted Ron, "This was supposed to be an exhibit and a birthday party, not tawdry attempt to embarrass your ex! You'd better take it down immediately! How would you like it if Mum had an exhibit of your baby pictures?" She turned to Hermione. "Did you know about this?"

"No. This part was conveniently left out of my invitation," she said through gritted teeth.

Ron held up his hands. "It wasn't meant to be embarrassing. Honest. And there's nothing tawdry or vulgar about it; you can't see any private body parts! See how the fan is the only color in it? It's artistic, Ginny. Like you would know anything about art!"

"Oh, and you do?" she shot back. "You don't even know the difference between Impressionism and Expressionism."

"You do have a gift, Mr. Weasley." Lucius sneered. "It's really a shame to see you squander it."

Ron's eyes narrowed. "How so?"

Lucius's fingers idly began to play with Hermione's loose curl that teased her collarbone "I can't imagine how successful you'll be in this endeavor if you keep using work without models' permission."

The air left Hermione's lungs, supplanted by panic. She identified a chill of terror in her lover's voice. Clearly, he wasn't going to let it be.

Ron flushed. "All photographs belong to me. I took them and I own them. They weren't professional jobs where contracts would be signed; they were for me and by me. Do you expect me to apologize for showing off my best work?"

Lucius nodded. "I do."

 _No. No, no, no…_ Hermione shot a wild-eyed distress signal to Ginny, desperate for a neutral party to intercede over what was about to happen. The other witch caught her eye and nodded in understanding.

"Hey, why don't we move this conversation somewhere more private?" Ginny suggested. "The more attention this skirmish will attract, the more people will see that picture."

Both wizards ignored her as Lucius continued, "Regardless who has the legal ownership of the photograph, you exploited her, Weasley. You put her body, her image, on public display without her consent. Art, revenge, boredom, contest – it was a contemptible act no matter what your motivations were. For her sake, however, I'm willing to rectify your mistake. How does ten thousand Galleons sound? Fair?"

Hermione stared down at the floor, wishing she could disappear. Why couldn't they just convince Ron to take it down? Why wasn't Lucius content with that? Why was he so intent on destroying it when half the guests have probably already seen it? Would its destruction suddenly make everyone magically unseen it?

"It's not for sale," Ron firmly replied.

"Fine. Twenty thousand?"

"Are you hard of hearing?" Ron demanded, raising his voice. "I said, it's not for sale!"

Hermione wanted to stop them. She really did, but her mouth just wouldn't obey her. She was petrified – her body transformed to stone, and about as warm as the photograph over which they squabbled.

Lucius leveled his gaze at Ron. "One hundred thousand Galleons, Weasley."

It must have been the magic number. For a time, Ron was quiet, stone-faced, and clearly considering the offer. He'd have been a fool to turn it down. And yet, he was obstinate and shook his head.

"Some things your money can't control, Malfoy. I'm one of them. Why do you want it so much? You can have thousands of pictures of her just like it. Why mine?"

"So I can dispose of it," Lucius said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I won't sell, so stop asking."

They locked eyes like rams locking horns. "You're making a mistake, Weasley."

"Yeah, whatever. But I'm willing to admit when I'm wrong," Ron said, looking at Hermione.

Her ears perked up. Was he offering a truce? It was the mature gesture she did not expect from her ex-boyfriend.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. Seriously, I should've asked your permission in the first place. I didn't consider your feelings. I thought you'd be impartial to it as a work of art. It's honestly my best work, and I wanted to show it off."

"What's done is done. Just take it down," she said, barely above of whisper, and wasted the only breath left in her chest.

Lucius stroked the bare skin of her shoulder, sending a feathery chill down her back. It was odd. Hermione was still embarrassed, but was also grateful. Earlier, Lucius mentioned that Ron owed her an apology and now one was laid at her feet. Once more, she felt like a normal human being, entitled to dignity, and not a piece of chattel to be priced, auctioned off, and sold to the highest bidder.

"Believe me, I didn't do it to embarrass you," Ron restated.

"If you'll take it down right now, we'll put it behind us," Hermione said, leaning closer to Lucius. He wrapped his arm around her and affectionately squeezed her hip.

Ron complied, looking wistfully at the photograph. "But you remember that night, don't you?" He touched her image in it. "We made love all night. You quoted someone clever, and said you'll always love me. When I stopped by last week, you said you still thought about that night."

 _No._ Her blood froze. _No, I don't. I didn't say it..._

"You know that's not true! That's not what I said, at all! Not even close!" she cried out in defense. Hermione didn't dare to glance at Lucius, but she could feel his entire body tightening around her. She cringed, unable to believe she could be so naive. Ron's truce was a trick — it was a ploy, and a cheap one, to drive a wedge in between her and her new love. True, it was difficult to say who'd really drawn first blood, but Ron's taunt was beyond the pale.

"One wonders," Lucius seethed softly, "was that the same night you told her how unsanitary it was for you to pleasure her orally?" He cocked his head wolfishly. "Was it the night you made her feel ashamed of her body? So ashamed, she still has reservations about that particular act."

Ron's face sank, and his smirk disintegrated. Whatever his stratagem had been, wherever it was meant to lead him, he obviously didn't expect Lucius to dash it all apart so gnomically.

He stammered, scrabbling for his retort. "I didn't mean … It was years ago … I didn't know what I was doing back then. Hermione, I never meant to hurt your feelings. I was afraid of doing it wrong..…

"It's almost poetic, Weasley — the night you created your best work of art was the night you drove her away with your ignorance. To think that the sweetest, most succulent part of her you cruelly rejected without a second thought, while I get to indulge in it every night."

"Shut up, Malfoy! What the fuck is your problem?"

Lucius's jaw locked. "I've tried to be civil about this, Weasley. I have." His hand drifted to her bottom. "But what precisely did you expect would happen tonight? You would invite my witch here to see that you still value her keepsake — to see how nothing else in the room measures up to that one, small piece of her. How intensely you've been imagining her in your bed like that." His fingers tauntingly traced patterns on her flesh. "Were you hoping she would come running back to you for that? Or was it something else entirely? You wanted to get her drunk? To dance with her? Seduce her? Undress her? To see how much of her body has changed since you've snapped that photograph? Tell the truth, now. She deserves to hear it."

He ended his obloquy, and Hermione's thoughts went black. The groups chattering around them began to quiet down and cast curious looks in their direction as Lucius's tone became louder, harsher, crueler.

She wanted to leave, right then and there. Just leave them both to their pissing contest. But she didn't have the strength to step out of Lucius's embrace, so Hermione stood rooted next to him.

Ron scowled. "No, not even close. I wanted to see her tonight to tell her goodbye. I'm moving to Dublin. George was able to find good premises there. Real good deal. We thought it would be a good idea to expand the joke shop's branches internationally. I'm going to head out there and start it up."

Goodbye? Hermione was stunned, and he dropped his gaze to her again, his glare gradually unraveling.

"Wow… when will you leave?" she asked him.

"First of September. That's when we'll officially own the place. Been thinking lately that I need a change. Some perspective. And since there's really nothing keeping me here… Anyways, all I wanted to do tonight was to say that I'll miss you."

Hermione's heart sank a little lower in her chest, weighted with a massive anchor of guilt. She could barely believe how badly things had gone; how far and how fast they'd spiraled out control. In her vanity, she thought he was attempting to get back together, when he simply wanted to part on good terms without the same air of awkwardness that they've operated under since their break-up. They hadn't been in the same room for longer than five minutes in two years, and all he wanted was a proper goodbye to honor their years of friendship.

Ron went on, "And I wanted to warn you to get yourself away from him." He glared again at Lucius.

A _re you kidding me?_

The anchor line snapped, and he set her adrift. Lucius was standing right here — right here next to her. Was Ron deliberately trying to be stupid to provoke him into another row? Was it supposed to impress her?

"I think it's wise that you're leaving, Weasley." Lucius tone, menacing before, grew almost demonically serene. "Truly. It's the least foolish thing you've said all night."

"Well, like I said, we all need a change of scenery, you know what I mean, Hermione?"

"She does, in fact," Lucius icily answered in her stead, "which is why we're getting out of the city ourselves this week."

 _Wait. What?_ Her eyes widened. "We are?"

He nodded. "I planned to surprise you." His hand moved up to caress her back. "But perhaps it's better you know. Particularly after tonight." His eyes flashed at Ron. "I think we both could use a breath of fresh air."

"Where?" Ron demanded. "Where are you taking her?"

"I have a place in Mustique," the older wizard answered without glancing away from Hermione. "The sun. The beach. The crystal clear waters." He smirked. "How does that strike you, Miss Granger? "

A desperate smile split over her lips. "Sounds perfect," she replied. She'd go to the North Pole if it meant they could get away from the media hailstorm that this night would undoubtably create.

Lucius leaned to kiss her. She sighed into his mouth, deepening the kiss. So relieved, Hermione almost forgot Ron was there with them, as she suckled at his bottom lip. His hands splayed across her back as he pressed her closer to him,

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I can't do it. I can't do it anymore!" Ron fumed. "I can't see him treating you like this, and pretend it doesn't drive me fucking insane. Just look at you. He's got you trained like his pet: he tells you what to do, and you go along with it. It's fucking disgusting. It's abusive. And I don't care if you hate me for it — someone has to tell you!" His shoulders shook. "You're going to regret this. He'll hurt you. Badly! Even Ginny said she never meant to set you up with him on that date. This is all just a big mistake. You'll end up heartbroken, if not dead!"

Hermione felt her heart wither. "Ron, that's enough."

By now, they were the show, not the exhibit. The crowd of onlookers doubled at this display, and the music no longer played. Was it midnight yet? All she wanted to do was wish Harry a happy birthday and get out of this hell. Lucius must have sensed it. One look at her, and the suffering on her face was self-evident.

"You heard the witch. I think we're done here." There was brimstone on his breath as he held out his hand to her. "Are you ready to leave, love?"

She nodded shakily and placed her hand in his.

"Na-uh!" Ron stepped closer to Lucius. "No. She's not going anywhere with you. You're done, Malfoy. You're done controlling her."

"Hermione," he repeated calmly, releasing her hand, "would you prefer to stay here or would you like to leave?"

"I'd like to leave. I'd like to leave." Her voice quavered, and a tear tracked down one cheek, "Right now."

"Of course, she'd fucking say that! You've probably got her under Imperius Spell." Ron yanked at his hair, exasperated. "Hermione, he's pulling your strings like a fucking puppet. You're only saying what he wants you to say."

They eyed each other murderously.

"You're wrong," Hermione said. "No one's controlling me, by spells or otherwise. I really do want to leave."

Ron was speechless.

"Goodbye, Mr. Weasley," Lucius said, smirking in satisfaction as he took her hand once more, leading her briskly past Ron toward the door. "Please convey our regards to Mr. Potter."

"Wait! No, wait!" Ron's mouth was gaping as he dashed after them. "Just listen! "

He snatched Hermione's arm. She cried out in pain, and then wasn't sure what happened next. With a speed that defied physics, Lucius put himself between them. She heard two dull, fleshy thuds, then a hiss of pain. And just as suddenly as it started, it was over. Ron dropped to his knees, coughing violently and clutching his stomach. Lucius stepped back, his eyes still ablaze.

 _Oh my God_. Hermione shuddered, looking from one to the other, and back again. Her entire body went numb.

Lucius's tone descended to a snarl. "Touch her again against her will, and so help me, I will kill you with my bare hands." Then he pointed his wand at the photograph and it went up in flames before their eyes.

Hermione felt her knees buckle and nearly give out underneath her. She glanced at Ron, still spluttering and gasping on the floor. Consumed by conflicting emotions, she felt intensely sorry for him. She felt guilty for coming there in the first place just to flaunt her new relationship in his face when he seemed so suspicious of it. However, Hermione also felt tricked because he'd not bothered to tell her about the photograph. Who in the world shows off private pictures in an art show? If it was for artistic reasons, she would have never posed for it. She did it for fun and for love, and they agreed before that it would stay between them. He betrayed her in the worst possible way, and she was so angry at him for being such an unrelenting, inconsiderate duffer.

The young witch also felt a minor annoyance directed at Lucius as well. He didn't need to goad Ron or try to buy him off. And yet, the way he defended her, with words and actions … Hermione was grateful to him … grateful to have his support. Despite her indignation, she was incredibly aroused.

She squeezed his hand as they fled the whole hellish little annex. They didn't slow until they reached his car, and then all was quiet. There was no music on the drive back to Lowndes Square. For a while, there wasn't even words.

Then he finally spoke, "Are you angry with me?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not angry with you. Not in the least. I only wish you hadn't hurt him."

His eyes were fastened to the road ahead. "I apologize for putting you through this." His fists tightened around the wheel. "I'm the jealous type. I was enraged to learn he was still pursuing you, but I never would have brought you tonight if I had known he'd stoop so low." He blew a hot sigh through his nostrils.

"He was terrible tonight," she agreed. "But I still don't want him to be in physical pain."

"I know you care for him as a friend." He frowned. "If you didn't, Hermione, I might have beat him bloody before we left."

He isn't serious. He couldn't be so violent.

She shut her eyes against the image her mind conjured of him in the Department of Mysteries.

"You know, he really believes he's trying to look out for me. In his own misleading way."

"I'm sure." Lucius's mouth tightened as he suppressed a sneer. "And do you think you need looking after?"

She stared at him, admiring the geometric shadows across his face from the night lights.

Hermione smiled at him and reached over to squeeze his strong thigh. "I believe the only one who can look after me is you." Her hand skated up to cup his cock. She felt him swell at her touch. "I need you to take me. Your witch is aching for you."

"Insatiable little thing, aren't you?" he teased, but pulled over into a dark, deserted street and tapped his wand on the windshield.

Hermione didn't answer. Her hands shook as she unbuckled her seatbelt. His eyes remained on her as she climbed over the center console and straddled his lap. His fingers sank into her thighs. Her eyes closed.

"Take me," she said, rolling her hips against him like a lapping wave.

He hardened even more, but said nothing. She clumsily tugged at his belt and unfastened his fly. His entire body was primed.

"So impatient," he chided softly, but his words nearly burned her with their heat. Her skin scintillated and seared.

He freed himself, almost angrily, and tore the lace panel of her knickers aside, then drove into her. They made love slowly and silently. Her lips glided over him, his hands guiding her the whole time, gripping her harder as he thrust deeper. Hermione held off her climax, she didn't want to come. She wanted to linger in this moment for as long as humanly possible. She undulated faster over him, moaning, but denying herself. Her body was his own. Then his jaw tensed as he stiffened. With a low groan, he spilled inside her with satisfaction. The spontaneity of the moment precluded taking their usual precautions.

They remained quiet. He held her with aloofness, obviously brooding.

He sighed. "Mea culpa. I shouldn't have allowed that."

"It's what I wanted," she tried to placate him. It was the truth, after all.

He ran a hand through her undone, tangled hair, still distant. He kissed her and took a linen handkerchief from his pocket. Hermione watched him unfold it, crease by crease, and spread it smoothly over his palm to wipe away his opal emissions from her flesh. She bit her lip, swallowing another moan. The handkerchief was so soft and his seed so slick. He continued to move the cloth up and down in gentle strokes. Without a warning, she quivered and came as he cleansed her.

"You never cease to amaze me, Miss Granger," he said, genuinely stunned.

 _You don't know the half of it, Lucius Malfoy._

She wanted to tell him right then and there. The timing was perfect.

But she didn't. Something held her back, but she didn't know what.

"I'm so tired," she managed to say instead.

He brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Me too. Home?"

She kissed his temple and nodded.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you all for your patience in regards to this story! So frightfully busy, I haven't had much time for updates in the last few months. But now that my Lucius is away in Mauritius, so I'll be updating more frequently until Christmas. Let me know what you think!**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

All morning, Hermione kept herself busy doing research for her next article on the new Transfiguration theory. The whole flat had felt eerily empty, despite the contrary. The whole city, really, seemed cast under a spell of early August laziness. Even Ginny slept in later than usual and was currently napping on the living room sofa.

Normally, Hermione would have welcomed a few hours' reprieve from her questions and tangents. Normally. But not today. Today, she needed a diversion; she needed noise and distractions. She had been brooding for days, although her mood was more ruminant than penitent. Her memories of Harry's surprise party gnawed upon her.

Was it worth it? Which is worse? To be quiet, or to be cruel?

 _You were a fool, Hermione Granger. A fool to trust him. A fool to convince yourself it was harmless. You knew better, didn't you? You did. You did nothing. Nothing._ A kind of cruelty by omission. Iphigenie's silence. Agamemnon's violence. Was it worth it? Which is worse?

It wasn't the first time Lucius had done something to upset her. He had been cruel before and he had been violent. But he'd never, ever been both. What happened to Ron, the way Lucius had hurt and humiliated him — left no illusions that it was all for her sake; that he'd done it, somehow, to defend her honor. But no. These were not chivalrous acts. They sprung from a place of spite; a place of jealousy. Now that Hermione knew such a place was alive and thriving within him, there was little to dissuade her that in some still uglier moment to come, he might let his demons loose upon her as well.

That, she supposed, was the thought that haunted her and why solitude seemed so poisonous to her this morning. Without Ginny's twaddle, she had nothing to drown out the deafening grind of her mind and its mastications. Hermione needed to fill up the empty spaces, to keep her thoughts buoyant, and her imagination at bay. So she did what any self-respecting, half-hysterical, confused young witch would do: she dissociated and disappeared into her books and parchments, mesmerizing herself with new spells.

There was something sort of seductive about testing out new magic. And something oddly calming as well. Soon, the memories were cropped out of her consciousness, and she let herself tumble, naive as Alice, down a dismal tunnel through which nothing and no one could follow.

But even in Wonderland, Lucius was waiting.

Hermione couldn't say that she was angry at him. At least, she didn't think she was. However, she'd become cooler towards Lucius since that night; she'd withdrawn from him. She didn't do it by intention, but by instinct, retreating into herself. While it was awful enough to be walled off from him, it was much worse to watch him allow it. With a stoic, almost monastic constraint, Lucius kept his distance from her. He respected her boundaries and had scarcely talked to her since the morning after their car tryst.

Perhaps he, too, was feeling guilty. Perhaps he wasn't. Either way, the reciprocal sangfroid was starting to destabilize Hermione.

She wanted him still. She always would.

It wasn't a dilemma of desires.

Hermione wanted his charm, his tenderness, his wit. And there were more than a handful of moments when, even amid her doldrums, she wished he would just demolish those walls she'd been so meticulously building around herself. She didn't want to be the first to come to him. Despite his vicious display at Harry's surprise party, she still loved him. She feared admitting ... feared of saying it first. Love was a subject that Hermione couldn't pretend to master. Yet she felt that these past few days were pulling them apart. She was afraid that time's passing, in its invisible and inviolable dimension, had already begun to divide them.

That's why she was foolishly defying time by still working on a spell she should have completed an hour ago; she could pretend this way that time was arrested. The doorbell sounded, but she didn't budge from her seat. Let Ginny get it; Hermione wasn't expecting anyone. Then Lucius Malfoy's voice touched her like a killing frost when she heard him speaking to Ginny. His voice withered her. Slowly, she lowered her wand, interrupting the spell, but remained in her room, aware that her bedroom door was wide open.

He knocked on it and said, "Is Miss Granger in?"

"That line is tired, Mr. Malfoy. Let it rest," Hermione cheekily replied.

He chuckled softly, and Hermione heard him step across the threshold. She tensed, trying hard not to tremble as his breath bristled over the back of her neck. Hermione felt his hand on her shoulder, and her eyes fell shut.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

 _Ready? Ready for what?_

As if reading her mind, he said in a softer tone, "You've forgotten. We're to go away today. I'm taking you to Mustique."

Mustique? Oh.

She nodded in remembrance. "I did forget. I'm sorry."

Hermione opened her eyes, just wide enough to see his reflection in her window, looming behind her like a storm cloud. He tightened his hold on her shoulder.

"You've had other things on your mind." His other hand came up to trace over her collarbones, leaving a trail of red hot flares in his wake. He noticed the pile of open books on her desk. "I see you had a busy morning."

She shrugged. "More or less." Then added, "I'm not packed yet."

"No?" He let his hands slide lower, grasping hold of her hips. "Then I shall wait."

She raised her eyebrow at him. "You'll be bored."

"I doubt can help me with a gift idea to keep me occupied."

Was he kidding? Should she be offended?

"I need something special. Something unique," he continued.

"A gift?" Hermione glanced at him askance. "For whom?"

"For someone special." He smirked. "Someone unique."

"Is that so?" She pursed her lips, trying hard to play along. "For a witch or wizard?"

"A very young witch who is difficult to please." Lucius cocked his head. "I wouldn't want to pick out the wrong thing and look foolish."

Hermione eyed him coyly. "You'll look foolish either way, lavishing gifts on a much younger woman."

"Not a woman," he corrected her coolly. "A girl."

She frowned and slipped herself free from his grasp. "You must tell me more about her. Is she shallow? Does she like jewelry? There's hardly a girl alive who doesn't love a little jewelry."

He grimaced and shook his head.

"No? Then perhaps a nice scarf." Hermione walked over to her wardrobe and modeled a blue pashmina with great exaggeration, striking a pose. He chuckled again and came closer, caressing the wool with the back his hand.

"It's fetching. It is." He ran his fingertips over her cheek."It never gets cold enough for that sort of apparel where she lives. At any rate, I was hoping for something more whimsical."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and slipped the scarf off. "Whimsical?"

He nodded darkly. "Tell me, what gift would have thrilled you, Hermione, when you were a tender, little sprite of six?"

 _When I was six?_ Hermione flicked her wand at her wardrobe, arranging for her summer clothes to fold themselves neatly into her trunk.

As much as she liked their little games, she was hardly in the mood to be infantilized by him and play along.

"I don't know. A doll. A bike."

He stepped aside, disregarding her choler. "Well, what about this?"

She watched impatiently as he lifted up on of her transfigured objects, a kaleidoscope, and fiddled for moment with the focus.

"I can see you, Hermione," he peered through, "wearing a blue nightgown. Bare feet. Your hair still sopping wet from the bath," without glancing up, he came closer, "I can see you by the tree the day after Christmas, lying on your belly beneath the piano bench, studying Sandow and wondering what's under his fig leaf."

He lowered the rim, and snatched out the card, wiggling his brows at her à la Groucho Marx.

Hermione flushed and rolled my eyes again — rhetorically this time. Idiot. He's an idiot. He just can't help himself, can he? She was careful to keep her face neutral as she struggled against the urge to giggle. His charming goofiness was an arme secrète — seldom seen, but never dead. He kept at it, making a beagle puss of the lenses, and a thin, traitorous smile split over Hermione's lips. She cursed herself for cracking.

"Yes," he set down the trinket, obviously pleased with himself, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I think this will do nicely. May I have it?"

"If you want. I can wrap it," Hermione offered, reaching under her bed for her box of gift wrapping accoutrements.

He leaned over, cocking his head. "Use the green paper, if you could. It ought to match her eyes."

Hermione sniffed and frowned as she unrolled the wrapping paper.

 _What is this game we're playing?_ she wondered. Who was this girl with green eyes? Was he making her up? She felt his eyes darting over her as she worked. Hermione felt his eyes following her hands as she sliced the paper and primly pressed the creases.

"Voilà!" She presented the package to him and summoned her quill. "To whom shall I address the card?"

He stole the pen from her hand. "To Leera." He winked at Hermione. "My niece."

Hermione's mouth fell open. "You, um..." She cleared her throat hoarsely, "you have a niece, Lucius?"

He nodded, jotting out a message on the remainder of the tag. "I do. Brilliant girl. She's just turned six. And you're going to meet her." He glanced up. "My sister, Lucilla, and her husband are staying at a resort on Mustique as well."

She ran a hand over her forehead, stunned. "You have a sister? Neither you nor Draco ever mentioned her before."

"Half-sister," he clarified, returning the quill back in her hand. "We're not close. But they're all I have in the way of family aside from Draco and my mother." His eyes flashed. "I'd like them to meet you, Hermione. I think it's important."

She was speechless. Utterly speechless. Her jaw was still hanging agape. He wanted her ... he wanted her to meet his family? She blinked, half expecting this to be a dream. She hadn't met his mother yet, but he was perfectly willing her to meet his whole other family. He 'thinks it's important'? Why?

Hermione could even begin to speculate, but she couldn't outright ask him either. On top of everything else that had been swirling around in the dim Charybdis of her head, she really couldn't add another mix into it, lest it be enough to drag the lot down for good and drown her with it. Nobler to take her chances with Scylla. Pitiful girl. Hermione remembered the nymph's horrific sea-change; the lurid depictions by Rosa and Rubens. It was a motif in Ovid, wasn't it?

Hermione shook her head. Girl gets punished because a monster fell in love.

"If it's important to you, then I'd like to meet them," she said, breathing out tensely.

He snatched her nightgown from the top of the pile in her trunk and made it vanish into thin air. She gasped in protest, but softened when he drew her to him by the waist. "You won't need it. I promise to do my outmost best to keep you warm."

Hermione forced a quiet laugh, her nose barely a hair's breadth from his lips.

"Now I'll ask again," he growled, "are you ready?"

Hermione didn't bother with packing along her books. She'd been cut off from him long enough. It was time — well past, perhaps. She slammed her trunk shut and nodded.

"Ready, Lucius."

Something told her that everything was going to change between them after this trip.

 _Everthing._


	13. Chapter 13

**Happy New Year 2017 to all of you! Huge thank you, dear readers, for your infinite patience! I'll be updating all of my stories soon enough. Work, romance, and ill-timed sickness kept me away from you, but I'll never abandon anything!**

 **Shameless Lumione smutty-ness ahead! Let me know what you think.**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

For the first hour or so on the plane, Hermione's luxurious seat might as well have been a bed of needles. She fidgeted and fussed at Lucius's side, watching anxiously as the world receded below them. The perpetual white of the clouds, interspersed with occasional glimpses of the blue of the ocean below, seemed to swallow them whole. These blue and white repetitions and fluctuations were almost hypnotic, lulling Hermione into a sort of trance.

Lucius seemed content to read his business documents beside her, very at ease to be making their exodus. She tried to watch him without making it obvious, but soon was fast asleep. If she had dreamt, Hermione didn't recall. She only began to stir when the smooth ride came to a halt, and the soothing sound of engine stopped.

"We're here," Lucius said, unbuckling his seat belt and reaching over to grasp her knee.

Hermione stretched and yawned, climbing rubbing the sleep from her eyes. They made their way through customs, to their designated Portkey. The sudden jolt through the air startled Hermione after such a calm, uneventful journey. Clumsily, she lost her footing when they landed in their room and tumbled gracelessly to the floor. Lucius gallantly helped her up and drew her close.

Hermione rose up on her toes to kiss him. He closed his eyes and set his hand on the nape of her neck, kissing her back. It was the closest she'd felt to him in days, but it was a kiss unlike any they'd shared in the past. Hermione wasn't aroused, per se. There were no incendiaries, no explosions going off inside her. It was idle and comforting, almost sweet feeling. His eyes were still closed as she pulled away. His jaw was clenched, and his brow tight. Hermione knew this look too well, flushing at the knowledge. He was aroused ... and holding himself back.

Hermione shrank away from him and tried to find an appropriate topic to distract him with. She was determined to refrain from any intimacy until she could broach her concerns to him about his ugly showdown with Ron.

"Wow! Lucius, come look at this!" Hermione exclaimed, as she opened the doors to the balcony.

She expected to see a typical beach resort view. Instead, she blinked twice, all air leaving her lungs. She wasn't looking at the beach or the ocean waves. Hermione was too busy looking upward. The sky was not of this earth — stippled with more stars than there were grains of sand on the beach. It was dizzying, disorienting. The longer Hermione looked, the more lights she saw, and at times they even seemed to pulsate like the subtle respirations of some great, celestial animal.

"I don't believe it," she breathed, still stunned. "It's beautiful."

Lucius came behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"I could stay here all night," she whispered to him.

"You could, yes. But let's get you inside," Lucius said, grasping her gently by the shoulders.

"Afraid I'll go frigid on you, even in the Caribbean?" she baited him.

He smiled wryly, tugging her inside, but leaving the balcony doors wide open.

Hermione sighed and reluctantly let him lead her in. She wandered around the house, her reflection moved through half dozen windows of high, gridded glass. Pendant lights dangled from the crisscrossing beams overhead. The place was steeped in his austere masculinity. It was cozy, but lacked the stereotypical trappings of beach resort that she expected to find.

"This way." Lucius set his hand on the small of her back and led her down the hall. He pressed open the door. He dropped her trunk at the foot of her bed.

"Get unpacked. I think I've some things in the lower drawers, but the rest are all yours."

Hermione awkwardly bit her lip, watching him. She hadn't budged from the doorway.

"Something wrong?" he asked her.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell on the bed. "We just haven't been together since that night," she said.

He nodded, his eyes flashing at the memory. "I know. Second thoughts?"

"No," she firmly replied. She wanted to so much to clear the air between them and get on with it. Still, she didn't want to spoil the evening now by getting into lengthy discussion.

Lucius offered his hand to her. Hermione stretched hers out to him. His grip tightened and he wrenched her forward, forcing her down across the bed. By sheer instinct, she tried to scramble away, but he wouldn't allow it. He mounted the bed, pinning her wrists above her and split her legs apart with his thigh. Hermione wiggled feebly against him. She'd almost forgotten what it was like to be beneath him, to feel the heaviness of his body against hers. To be held and held down. To be at his mercy. To be his.

Lucius descended. Hermione expected him to disrobe her and take her then and there. She knew he was thinking it, knew he wanted it. She could feel his erection growing in his trousers. His gray eyes froze over. Hermione braced herself for the storm. But he backed away. The tension between them dissipated as quickly as it swelled.

"Unpack, rest. I'll start dinner. I'm sure you must be hungry," he said.

 _I am. Ravenous, in fact._ Hermione slowly sat up, trying not to feel scorned by his retreat.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're going to cook? By yourself?"

"I do when occasion calls for it. You'll need your strength for tonight."

"I'm not that hungry, Lucius."

"Liar," he said with his signature smirk. "I don't blame you for being skeptical. Now do as I say, then join me downstairs."

Hermione listened to his footsteps recede down the hall, then watched her own chest rise and fall with each breath. She heard her stomach rumble plaintively, as she slid off the bed and unpacked her trunk. In one of the drawers she found a set of his neatly pressed white shirts. She lifted one. It smelled of cedar, musk, and leather. It was like him. And like him, Hermione wasn't quite willing to let it go. Silently, she slipped off her clothes and pulled the cotton over her eyes. She stared at herself in the mirror. The neckline of his shirt slipped down to expose her shoulder. She had to admit the effect was both sexy and silly. Just like that, she sauntered swiftly downstairs.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" she asked the moment she stepped into the kitchen through a subtle white haze of smoke.

Lucius spun to face her, stirring a steaming copper pot with a whisk. Hermione fought the urge to laugh. Like her, he also looked ridiculous. He'd donned a black apron, an oven mitt, and rolled up his sleeves to the elbow. All he was missing was the neckerchief and a big, floppy toque blanche.

"Can I help you?" Hermione asked, hiding her smile.

Lucius moved away from the stove and filled two glasses with wine.

"Not just now," he said, handing her the glass.

Their glasses clinked.

"What are we toasting?" Hermione asked, grinning.

He shrugged. "To the the night. To the stars. To us." He returned her grin and raised his glass. "To the paradoxical undressing, perhaps. May she huddle herself ever closer."

Hermione blushed as she took a small sip. Lucius watched her silently for a moment, then offered his hand once more.

"Come here, I need to borrow your tongue."

She trailed him to the stove and sniffed.

"It smells amazing," she said, hopping up to seat herself on the counter. "What is it?"

"Coulibiac. A sort of muscovite salmon en croute. But this," he dipped a wooden spoon into the pot, "this is what I want you to taste."

He blew on it gently to cool its contents. Hermione obediently lowered her lips to the spoon.

Sweet. Salty. A bit metallic.

She swallowed. "It's kind of ... odd."

"You dislike it?" He stirred.

Hermione licked her lips and shook her head. "It's not bad. I just never had anything like it before."

"It does have a copper flavor to it, which maybe peculiar to some."

"You're quite the chef, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione bent closer to him. The wine was making her bold. "Did you used to cook for your ex-wife too?"

His stirring ceased.

 _Why did you say that, Hermione?_

His eyes flashed icily. "No. That's not really what you're asking, is it? Go on, then."

She breathed softly. "Did you holiday here with her?"

He leaned closer, leveling his gaze. "I've had women here before I was married, yes. But Narcissa, no. She never liked this place."

Hermione bit into her lip, wrestling with her friable nerves. She wanted to ask him. By now, she felt she had the right to ask him about his past. Nevertheless, principle and practice were too often at odds. She swirled the wine in her glass.

"Why didn't she like it?"

He stared at her for a moment, then answered, "The hot climate disagreed with her complexion, or so she said." He quaffed the rest of his wine. "Besides, this was my personal sanctuary. A place that's just for me. A place for renewal."

Hermione felt a distant, piercing sting in her chest. "Is that what we're doing here, Lucius? Starting over?"

He leered at her wolfishly. Hermione felt her skin burn crimson beneath his eyes.

"No. You can never start over." He stirred the pot once more. "Even if we could, I wouldn't. Every mistake I've made in my life has its part in bringing me to you."

She dropped her eyes, not knowing how to respond. Lucius reached past her and lifted a long, gleaming knife from its rack.

"You know how to use this?" he asked.

She gave a terse nod.

"Cut up some parsnips. We'll roast them with the coulibiac."

Hermione slipped off the counter. The non sequitur was sloppy, but it was saving grace."

She set about her task with care. Yet when she felt him sweeping her hair off the nape of her neck, she almost missed her target. His touch alone was enough to undo her. Hermione closed her eyes, sighing as he laid light kisses along the edge of her throat.

"Continue," he whispered.

She did as he asked, melting beneath the steady descent of his lips. Then Hermione felt a sudden sting. Glancing down, she saw red pooling on the tip of her finger. Wincing, she slipped it into her mouth.

Lucius snatched her hand away. "Let me see," he commanded.

"It's nothing. Honestly. I have Essence of Dittany in my bag, I'll be fine," she hurriedly reassured him, not wanting anything else to interrupt their intimate moment. She amended her original plan: all the issues that needed to be addressed and discussed could wait. On their first night, she just wanted to focus on her lover.

He summoned the vial from her bag, and Hermione tried not to roll her eyes as he warned her about the stinging. He applied couple drops to her finger. The burn flashed through her blood, then fizzled.

Hermione marveled when Lucius placed a lingering kiss on her healed digit. "No more knives for you, Miss Granger," he said.

"You know perfectly well you were distracting me, Mr. Malfoy," she playfully retorted back. "I'm not entirely useless in the kitchen. For instance, you should be stirring that." Hermione pointed at the sizzling edge of the pot. She stepped closer to him and reached to turn down the burner, purposely grazing his inseam and letting her hand linger there just long enough for him to notice.

"Perhaps I should take over the stirring duties?" She batted her eyes unctuously at him.

He ran a hand through his hair, deliberately not acknowledging her action.

"Very well." He surrendered the whisk and sliced up the last several parsnips. It was dreadful fun for Hermione, making a mess in the kitchen with him. It all felt wonderfully domestic somehow. Hermione used to resent being conscripted into kitchen duty in the Weasley household. However, such an ordeal with Lucius was a welcome prospect. The chain of flirting and fondling was building the tension too much, and when they kissed again, Hermione was the one who clung and deepened the kiss.

She missed him. She missed the feel of his strong body beneath her hands. He was always so warm and smelled so good. As he buried his face in her neck, Hermione delighted in running her fingers through his he pulled his head back, she looked into his eyes. Deep gray and warm now. A thick, sensitive emotion was blooming inside Hermione. Lucius's expression was almost pained as he leaned in to kiss her again. This time the kiss was more gentle, gentler than he's ever been with her. His warm, soft lips graze against her own in the sweetest way. Her hands reached up to hold his face close to hers, as she tried to pour more of her feelings into this one kiss than into any of their other encounters. She felt him pull away, but Hermione kept her hold on him and Apparated them into the bedroom.

She released him, only to start unbuttoning her shirt. He did the same, as their lips found each other, fusing together once more. With measured movements, Lucius guided her backward until Hermione felt the bed behind her knees. His hands were soon pulling at her shirt, making quick work of discarding it before pulling her down onto the mattress. He came down with her, his body pressing hard into her own. Hermione's legs spread, resting along his sides. Their kiss ended, but their faces were still mere centimeters from each other. No words were needed.

Lucius placed his lips at the base of her jaw, as he rolled them over. Hermione now straddled his lap, beaming at him.

"I've missed you," she whispered, feeling compelled to say something.

His arms wrapped protectively around her waist. "I've missed you too," he mumbled against her jaw and fell back onto the bed.

They slowly undressed each other. Lucius proceeded to reacquaint himself with every inch of her body. His warm breath, his solid muscles, and tender touches made Hermione nearly deranged with need. Yet he was careful to take his time. Kneeling between her legs, Lucius ran his hands along her thighs. A moan of utter pleasure blared from Hermione's mouth. As if reading her mind, he positioned the tip of his rock hard cock at her opening and leaned down over her body. His heavy breathing was thick against her neck and, with her hands, Hermione felt him push his hips forward. With gentle force, he buried himself completely within her.

Never had Hermione felt so full. She kissed the part of his cheek that she could reach without moving too much from her position. Lucius returned the kiss, but remained unmoving inside her, waiting for her to adjust to him. She felt him take a deep breath and pull back. They both groaned at the action.

Every nerve inside Hermione was alive and screaming at the feel of him. Lucius thrust back in, and she could only gasp in response.

His brow furrowed in concern, but Hermione gave him a shaky smile. An excruciatingly slow rhythm built between them, and Hermione could finally move her hips again without feeling as though he were splitting her in half. Soon, she joined his movements. Neither one increased the pace; both content in taking their time. Lucius pulled himself up and sat back on his feet, his muscular thighs spreading to accommodate her. His hands reached to grasp each of her ankles, and spread her legs farther apart.

Hermione watched him, then glanced down where their bodies were joined, watching his shaft move in and out of her. There was something incredibly erotic about watching Lucius slowly push in and pull out, as she arched in tandem to each movement. He looked magnificent like this - his thick mane of hair deliciously tousled, his gray eyes glazed over in the heat of passion as his muscles flexed under his exertion.

Without trouble or hesitancy, his right hand slid under her lower back, and Lucius effortlessly pulled Hermione up. She raised her face up to kiss him, moaning into his mouth.

"Lucius," she whispered against his lips, as his arms wrapped completely around her. Air hissed through Hermione's teeth as she deeply inhaled and dropped her head back from the fantastic, intense pressure building inside her. Lucius's capable hands kept her against him as he leaned forward to kiss her neck. His mouth sending shockwaves straight to her groin.

Slowly and carefully, up and down, they kept at their unhurried pace. Hermione grabbed at his face to kiss him with as much passion as she could muster. He eagerly reciprocated.

Never, ever had Hermione felt so close to anyone, so intimate and complete. She didn't want this to be over too soon. An idea struck her, and she pressed on his shoulders until Lucius lay her back on the bed. Hermione swung one leg over to grip at his hips and keep him from pulling out of her. She turned them slowly over until she was on top, straddling him. Lucius moaned in appreciation and greedily took a hold of her hips and took up the rhythm of his thrusts once more. From this angle, Hermione felt him every more intensely. She rode him thoroughly, moaning and gasping at his every variation. For the first time, Lucius started to increase the pace, his thrusts becoming more frenzy and frequent. As she bounced on his lap, Hermione could no longer hold herself up and pressed herself to his chest. His lips found her neck and shoulder, biting and nipping at the skin he could reach.

Hermione didn't know how much longer she can hold off on her impeding orgasm. The sensitive tingling has spread from her clit to her stomach and chest, to her limbs, and even to the tips of her hair.

"Lucius," she moaned his name again, thick with implication.

He knowingly panted against her skin and rolled them over until Hermione was on her back. She spread her legs wider, welcoming him. Hermione wrapped her arms and legs entirely around him, as Lucius fucked her into oblivion. Hermione felt him everywhere - inside her, against her, around her. His lips found hers, and it was enough. More than enough. It was her undoing.

Hermione gasped into his mouth as she tipped over the precipice.

"Come with me," she begged him before he forced his tongue into her mouth.

The floodgates opened, and Hermione's body vibrated with release. She held herself to Lucius, as her inner walls squeezed his cock over and over. She could feel him expanding even more inside her before he stilled and joined her.

His guttural groan in her neck made Hermione shiver, as his hot, thick spurts filled her. Their shared climax went on and on, and Hermione felt like she could cry. The intensity of the moment was too much and had her exhausted beyond measure. She couldn't stop shaking. His hips twitched, sending even more shivers through her.

When Lucius moved again to pull out of her, Hermione hissed in protest. She wasn't ready to part from him yet. He relaxed again, panting for air. Hermione could hardly breathe in this position, but she loved having him on top of her and being wrapped up in his arms.

 _Safe, strong, and protected in my Lucius's embrace._

She smiled against his shoulder.

 _My Lucius._


	14. Chapter 14

**Hope everyone had a good weekend. Thank you all for reading and reviewing! Our couple is about to take a step forward in their relationship :)**

 **Hugs,**

 **Lana**

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes again, it was still dark and very quiet. She was under the covers now with Lucius sleeping beside her on his back, his hair spread out on the pillow. She leaned closer to examine his face. He had a bit of a short stubble along his jaw - just the way Hermione liked it against her skin. Sometimes she could swear he could make her come simply by rubbing it along her skin. A familiar throb between her legs overcame her again.

She wondered what he would do if she woke him up with a blow job. Deftly, Hermione pulled the comforter down from him. He was still naked, and already hard. She licked her lips in anticipation; she wanted to taste him so badly. She tentatively wrapped her hand around his length, but he didn't stir. Keeping her eyes on his face, Hermione leaned forward and placed him in her mouth, gently suckling on his large head. He tasted so good!

Hermione moved her mouth faster, as her hold on him tightened. Still asleep, he was so vulnerable in this position - entirely under her control for once in their whole history together.

Her moment of power was short-lived, however, when she felt his legs twitch a little and a hand glided through her thick, mussed hair. Her eyes automatically flicked up at him.

"Hermione," he hissed, his brow raised in surprise. Clearly, he wasn't expecting this wake-up call.

Hermione sucked him harder, and he moaned out his approval and encouragement. Every push of him into her mouth teased the entrance to her throat, a feeling she delighted in. Lucius groaned and grasped her hair harder and out of her face, holding her head in his lap, as she worked between his legs. With her free hands, Hermione could stroke the rest of his shaft and fondle his balls.

She slipped his cock deeper into her mouth, and glanced up at him again. Watching him watching her, basking in the eroticism of the moment, and humming hungrily around his flesh.

Lucius gasped and pulled her head away from his cock, as he swiftly sat up. Hermione wiped the wetness from her lips, surprised at his actions. She thought he would be quite happy to come this way.

Not giving her too much time to ponder the situation, Lucius pulled her onto his lap. Her thighs spread over his, as Hermione lined him up to her entrance and lowered her dripping pussy onto him. Lucius let out a low moan against her shoulder, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist. Hermione felt so full when every inch of his swollen cock had filled her to the brink.

"You feel so good," she gasped into his ear as he began to thrust.

"I love being inside you," Lucius whispered, kissing her neck. The huskiness of his voice was irresistible, and Hermione could only grasp his shoulders harder in response.

She rocked back and forth on him, over and over, delighting in the urgency of his hands squeezing at her hips. The continuous rhythm was pushing her closer and closer to the edge, adding to the sweet ache that was spreading all over her body since she woke up. Just when Hermione was sure her orgasm was upon her, Lucius stopped.

She whined in bitter protest, as he slipped out of her and lay her down on the bed.

"Stay right here," he said and moved away from her.

"But Lucius!" Hermione groaned out in frustration, already missing him inside her.

"Trust me. Now close your eyes," he ordered, standing before her next to the bed.

Sighing, Hermione obeyed him. She felt him grab her leg and gently pull her to the edge of the mattress. He opened her thighs wider.

"Touch yourself," he commanded softly.

"What? Why?"

"I was right the first time and I am right this time. Trust me. Now do as I say."

Hermione just wished he'd pound her into the mattress. However, when it came to sex, the wizard knew what he was doing.

Her hand obediently touched her heat, rubbing at her swollen clit. The shock of touch sent a jolt of electricity to her limbs, and Hermione arched her back in pleasure. She kept her eyes closed and played with herself, all too aware that he was watching her every move, only a few inches away.

"Lucius," she gasped, as she teased her folds. Her ministrations were good enough to keep her aroused, but she knew they wouldn't be enough to give her the ultimate reprieve.

"Please fuck me, Lucius," she begged him, spreading her thighs farther.

"You need my help?" he asked in amused voice.

"Yes! I need you!" Her words rang out more desperately than she intended.

He continued to tease, "Are you certain?"

Already Hermione could feel the tip of his cock nudging at her entrance. She groaned and rolled her hips toward him.

"Yes," she answered.

At her response, she felt his rock hard shaft slide all the way to the hilt. Her back arched more, and she spread her thighs wider, tilting her hips. The angle feels deeper than ever, and she's sure she should be in pain later, but right now all she feels is pure pleasure.

Lucius stood at the end of the bed, pumping wildly into her, creating the most delicious friction. His cock shaped her insides, custom forming them for him - marking her as his and his alone.

"You are so tight," he breathed out and placed his warm hand on her abdomen.

She incoherently moaned back. Lucius pushed on her thighs, spreading them a few degrees more, as he worked himself in and out of her. Hermione clawed at the blanket, moaning his name as her orgasm came into focus once more.

"More! Please more!" she gasped, rolling her hips against his thrusts.

His eyes were bright as he watched her face. He smirked and ... that did it!

Hermione turned her head away, squeezing her eyes shut again, trying to suppress her scream as she succumbs to her climax.

"Lucius!" she cried out, pulsing around his shaft. Every wave of her orgasm ignited her nerves, and when she felt his own shooting warmth shooting into her tight depths, it got even better.

Spent, Lucius collapsed on top of her once more, resting his head on her chest. Hermione ran her hands through his hair, shivering beneath him.

"I'm so glad you woke me up," Lucius said softly.

"I'm sorry I ruined dinner."

"Don't be. I took care of it. We'll have many more opportunities to try again." He placed a kiss on her breast before getting up to clean up.

When they settled in again for the night, Hermione lay her head on his chest. His even breaths and the sound of the ocean waves soon lulled her back to sleep.

* * *

Lucius woke up in bed by himself. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom. Rolling onto his back, he raised his hand to rub at his face, groaning when he felt his erection push against the sheets. He was determined to ignore it. For now.

He couldn't believe she actually agreed to come here with him. He wasn't sure she'd be up for something like this after Weasley's stunt. Lucius knew his behavior that night was the reason for Hermione's emotional distance. He wondered if he should say something or let her bring it up. He knew he behaved in a manner she disapproved, but the nasty cockroach deserved it. Best not to think about such unpleasantries now.

Lucius rose up and walked into the washroom. Steam billowed from the shower, but he could still see Hermione's form through the foggy glass doors, making him throb even more.

"Good morning," he politely called to her, grabbing at his toothbrush.

She turned off the shower and replied sweetly, "Good morning! How'd you sleep?"

He looked at her through the vanity's mirror, as she dried herself off with a towel, her dark hair dripping over her naked shoulder. Images of her from last night filled his head, and he smirked at her. "Not too bad. Not too bad at all."

Hermione gave him a sheepish smile.

 _Devilish vixen._

"I'll give you some privacy," she said, turning back to the bedroom.

He sighed and continued with his ablutions. As he stepped into the shower, he tried not to think about her in that tiny towel. Not that her choice of couture made any difference. To be around Hermione Granger and not think about fucking her was proving to be rather difficult. Not that he could do anything about his situation now; it would take too long. He turned the knob towards cold water. That would be the best way to remedy the situation. For now.

After breakfast, they decided to go to the beach. Lucius wanted to show her off. He wanted the whole island to see that she was with him - that she was his alone.

He kept stealing surreptitious glances at her smooth, naked back that was visible in her little white summer dress with her dark curls bouncing beguilingly around her. She was so effortlessly, naturally beautiful.

Lucius resolved to maintain his composure, even when she asked him to rub sunscreen on her back. He noticed that she was particularly responsive when he rubbed her shoulder blades, close to her spine.

She smiled at me, but then her eyes clouded over.

"Say it, Hermione," he prompted her.

"Say what?"

"Whatever's bothering you. I can see that something does. Out with it," he said.

She sat down onto the sand and pushed her toes into it. Lucius smiled at her actions.

"I don't know how to say it," she began with some hesitation. "It's about the other day ... with Ron."

Ah, here it was.

"I know what he did was outrageous, but your reaction was so ... over the top. Your violence over something so small gave me a fright."

Lucius felt uncomfortable. He knew Weasley deserved it, but perhaps he did step a little out of line.

"I do apologize for my behavior. While I do think he deserved everything and more for humiliating you, I am ashamed of creating a scene and frightening you." There, that was as apologetic as he was going to be about that red-headed dolt.

"Despite of my reputation, I am not a violent man. I use force only as necessary. I never want to make you fear me, or my reactions," he added, feeling even more ashamed of causing her anxiety about his temporary loss of calm. Perhaps he underestimated the impact of that unfortunate incident had on her. Lucius never wanted her to fear him. No matter what, he'd never take his anger out on her. She had to know that.

Her face looked relaxed for the first time since he picked her up at her flat. She smiled. "I know, and I don't fear you. It's just that witnessing that side of you scared me, but at the same time I liked having you defend me, if that makes sense. In the future, I'd just wish you'd use words, not fists." She paused and chewed on her bottom lip for a few seconds, as if considering her next words. "There's also a matter of you trying to pay him off for that photograph. Ron was wrong to betray my confidence that way, but we both have a past, Lucius. We've both had good and bad experiences in our relationships, and I strongly believe that those experiences have made us who we are today. I don't want either one of us to feel like we have to destroy a simple memento, do you understand? We have each other, and that's better than any keepsake. Hearing you haggle over it was absolutely dreadful. Let him do what he wants with it; we have what really matters."

"That was rather distasteful of me," Lucius conceded. That particular moment could have been handled with more diplomacy. Nevertheless, Weasley should not have tried to publicly embarrass Hermione. And Lucius was damned if he would let Weasley get away with it. For the future, it would be best to avoid such unpleasantries in Hermione's presence.

"Shall we put the whole ordeal behind us?" he proposed, hoping to bring this conversation to a close.

"So long as you promise it won't happen again, then consider it behind us," she said, getting up.

"You have my word ... as a Malfoy."

An excited look overcame her face. Her hands found his neck and pulled Lucius to her. He kissed her back slowly, making sure to leave nothing unexplored. Lucius felt her nails caress his jaw, stroking along the slight stubble that she seemed to love.

Hermione let out a startled gasp when his hands moved to grab at her thighs. Lucius easily picked her up without breaking their kiss. The sea licked at his ankles and the voices of the other beachgoers buzzed around him, but Lucius didn't care, as he moved his mouth eagerly against hers, tasting her deliciousness. Although they have never been the ones to display their affection so publicly, this was a rare moment in which Lucius felt the need to let the world know exactly what went on between them. His chest felt as though it were on fire; the blood in his veins grew warmer the longer her lips were on his. Lucius wanted her right now. He wanted to just lay her down on this beach and let her know just how incredible he thought she was.

Before the thought could go too far, Lucius pulled away. Hermione kiss his cheek one more time, as she slid down his body.

"I getting hungry," Hermione said.

Lucius wrapped one arm around her. "Where would you like to go eat?"

She shook her head, giving him a lascivious look, even as her mouth threatened to break into a smile. "I never said I was hungry for food, Lucius," she softly said.

Oh.

As the innuendo dawned on Lucius, he pulled her away to a private spot and Apparated them back to the bedroom. Hermione giggled as he bumped against the bedpost. Perhaps it wasn't the smoothest of Apparitions, but Lucius was frustrated all morning since he saw her naked in the shower.

She pulled him back to her, kissing him with unrestrained passion. He held her tightly to him, his hands reacquainting themselves with her petite frame, using wandless magic to rid them both of their clothes. Hermione pushed him back, away from the bed, and into the chair by the window. She bent down to kiss him again, but resisted when Lucius tried to pull her into his lap.

Giving him a mischievous smile, she sank down to her knees before him. "I told you I was hungry," she whispered.

Lucius loved it when she took what she wanted. His cock twitched in anticipation of what was to come.

Hermione dispensed with preliminaries and impatiently lowered her mouth to the head of his cock. Sighing, she began to suckle. Lucius groaned at the sensation, his fingers during themselves in her curls, gently holding her head. He loved watching her please him, loved watching how all of her movements were designed to bring him satisfaction - the way she rolled her tongue around the tip, the friction of her swollen lips, the way her hand stroked him.

This time, she certainly wasn't exaggerating her hunger. It was the only way to describe her actions. She sucked, licked, and buried his cock in her mouth, not pausing even once to pull away to rest her jaw or catch her breath. Her ravenous efforts soon had Lucius panting. Every now and then, her big eyes would flick up at him, and he could only stare back in heated approval.

When his thickness nudged the back of her throat, Lucius tightened his grip on her hair.

"Fuck, that's good!" he encouraged her.

As she did it over and over, bobbing her head up and down on his slick cock, Lucius hoped she would never stop, even though a small part of him wanted to pull away and slip inside her tight pussy. However, he knew better than to interrupt her ravishment. Besides, it was too late. Lucius felt his balls ache with a pending release.

"Don't stop," he demanded, and Hermione only hummed and sucked harder in response.

Lucius tried to keep his hips in place, not wanting to ram into her mouth. Yet his groin felt as though it were on fire, and all he could think about was how exquisite every crevice in her felt felt against his cock.

"I'm going to come!" he warned her. After all, he was still a gentleman, in some respects.

She increased her suction and forced his cock even deeper with his every thrust.

Now the wizard was left in no doubt of her desires; she wanted him to come into her mouth.

He was inching toward the edge of his peak. He was almost there.

As though she could read his mind, Hermione's eyes flashed to his face.

Her eyes flash to my face and the cum is building faster, filling it's only passage with one way out.

"I'm going to come in your mouth!" Lucius told her in last warning.

All she did was to take even more of him into her tight throat. At the sensation, Lucius couldn't hold back any longer. He groaned out incoherent words as he spilled his seed into her wanting mouth. His pelvis gyrated slightly as he shot spurt after spurt into her. He couldn't remember last time he'd come so much. She continued to suck him clean until he became too sensitive for contact. His fingers flexed in her hair, and she pulled back, licking her lips. Then he saw her throat muscles move, as Hermione swallowed.

"You're unbelievable," Lucius panted and dropped his hands, his head falling to the back of the chair. He's had witches who were good at the art of oral pleasure. Few were exceptional. Even fewer were amazing. But she ... Hermione Granger topped them all today.

Unbelievable. And she was all his.


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you all for reading and reviewing this story!**

 **Family time, alone time, the surf, the sun, the secrets...**

* * *

High above the turquoise Caribbean waters, gleaming in the midday sun, stood a great white edifice - the residence of Lucilla Malfoy de Gramont, the illegitimate daughter of Abraxas Malfoy. Hermione took in its graceful proportions and intricately-designed balconies, noting that a lot of time and care must have went into its design.

Her eyes flickered to Lucius's, as she tried hard not to fidget. "Your sister knows I'll be coming here with you, right?" she asked.

"She knows I'm bringing a guest," he casually replied.

"Did you tell anyone else about us?"

"Draco, obviously."

Hermione nodded. "He seems to be unfazed by it."

Lucius chuckled. "He's supportive enough."

She didn't press him for more details. Hand in hand, they walked up to the house through the majestic gardens heavy with fragrance of tropical flowers. Faint sounds of gurgling water of the fountains could be heard in the distance.

"It's hard to believe we're not in paradise," Hermione murmured. She squeezed Lucius's hand, and he reached down to kiss her. "She must be very happy living here."

"Happier, at any rate," he said. "She's had a difficult life." Clearing his throat, he clarified, "Being my father's illegitimate daughter wasn't easy. When she finally married and left the country, her luck didn't improve. Her first two husbands were abusive."

"How awful!"

"It's all behind her now."

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm glad she's found happiness. You said you had a niece. Is Leera her only child?"

"Yes." He cast his eyes down. "She's had a lot of trouble conceiving. Needless to say, Lucilla dotes on her."

"Lucius!" cried a feminine voice in genuine delight from the terrace near the front entrance.

"Luddi!" he called back to a tall, striking witch in celadon summer dress glided down to them, happily greeting Lucius with a kiss on a cheek. Hermione stood shyly to the side, waiting to be introduced.

"Welcome to my home!" Lucilla said with a slight French accent, reaching out to shake her hand.

Hermione exchanged pleasantries with the witch, in slight awe of her self-possession and exotic beauty with her violet eyes and black satin hair, which was twisted into a tasteful chignon. She took the new arrivals by one arm each and chattered happily as she led them through the trees toward the back lawn where the sound of children's laughter could be heard.

"Let me introduce you to the birthday girl. We've just cut the cake, so all the children out there are full of sugar," the proud mother explained.

"I thought I heard the sounds of Malfoy," said a kind voice from the terrace.

Hermione turned to see a youthful wizard coming forward to greet them.

"Hermione, may I present Nicolas de Gramont? Nicolas, this is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger." They shook hands, and Hermione's nervousness faded away. She expected Lucius's extended family to treat her the way Draco had in Hogwarts, but they were warm and understated.

As they turned the corner, the company was accosted by little girls in pastel dresses playing all over yard. A precocious girl in yellow dress came hurling toward Lucilla.

"Maman!"

"Leera! Look who came to see you!"

"Uncle Lucius! Is Draco here with you?"

Lucius greeted his niece with remarkable tenderness and lifted her up in his arms.

"No, Leera. He couldn't come. But I brought someone else to meet you. This is my special friend, Hermione Granger."

"Very nice to meet you, Leera." Hermione smiled at the adorable girl. With her long brown curls and pink cheeks, Leera looked surprisingly mature for a six-year-old.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Granger," the girl said, eyeing her warily with a slight pout on her lips.

"Happy Birthday," Hermione said.

Lucius handed Leera his present. The girl thanked them as she tore at the wrapper, then ran off to show it to her playmates. It looked like the kids were back to entertaining themselves. Nicolas and Lucilla led their guests to a gazebo under a flowering tree where lunch was about to be served, Lucilla walked ahead and began instructing the house-elves.

"Does she remember that Father's codicil goes into effect next week?" Lucius asked Nicolas.

He sighed. "I don't know."

Lucius's face registered his disbelief. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"Come on, Lucius!" Nicolas's tone was sharp. "I don't want to bring it up. I've been waiting to see if Lucilla will mention it, but so far she's refrained."

"Do you thinks she could have forgotten?" There was concern in Lucius's voice.

The question hung in the air between the two wizards like the heavy scent of plumeria all around them.

"Well," Lucius resumed with classical Malfoy delicacy, "I don't see why it needs to mean anything unpleasant. All Lucilla needs to do is to come to London to initiate the transfer of funds. She need not interact with Mother in any way. "

They stood in silence, linked only by creeping tendrils of growing apprehension.

Before Hermione could inquire further as to the nature of their brief exchange, Lucilla's joyful voice floated to them from the gazebo, "Come along, you three! Lunch is served."

The rest of the day followed at a leisurely pace without any more mentions of the codicil and its meaning. After the children's party dispersed, Lucilla and Nicolas convinced their guests to go surfing on their private beach. Even though she was nervous, Hermione liked their company too much to end their visit short, so she agreed.

The company walked down from the house to a secluded beach covered in powder white sand. They picked a spot near the lush vegetation and set down their things. Nicolas and Lucilla told stories of their surfing adventures in Australia, as they prepared their boards.

"I like that on you," Lucius said, eyeing Hermione up in her bikini.

"Thanks." She smiled at him and started piling her hair into a bun atop her head. She didn't think her swimwear was particularly revealing enough to warrant any commentary on it.

"You're ready?" Lucilla asked Lucius with a challenge in her tone. "Let's see if you still remember how we used to do it on the North Sea, little brother. Hope you didn't get too rusty."

"Luddi, there is not a rusty bone in my body."

"We'll see about that," she retorted.

When the foursome paddled the outskirts of the waves, it really hit Hermione that she wasn't casually dating Lucius anymore; this was intimate family time, and she was included in it. She looked to her wizard and smiled. Sitting upright on their boards, they waited for a wave, and when one started to break close to them, Lucius caught it first. Hermione marveled at his grace, certain she wouldn't look like this on her board.

With her toes an inch from the back, she paddled into the potential wave. Looking over her shoulder, she could see it climbing higher, so she pushed faster. When she felt it snag her board, pushing her, she gripped the rails and popped herself up. Keeping her knees bent, Hermione maintained her balance and took off.

There was no other feeling in the world like riding a wave. The wind in her face, a wall of water at her left, curving around, trying to consume her. She bent her knees a little further, trying to steer the board, then dipped her fingers into the curling wall to feel the cool water rushing past her. Using magic to maintain her balance at maximum speed, she glided out before the wave could connect at the end and swallow her.

Nicolas and Lucilla cheered for her from the distance. Hermione felt alive and invincible with a new adrenaline rush, going back again and again until the daylight hours burnt out. Lucius's athleticism and stamina was impressive, and as they set aside their boards for a walk on the shore, Hermione was incredibly turned on. The moment Nicolas and Lucilla were out of view, Lucius reached for her and lifted her into his arms.

She grabbed at his biceps.

"You are..." Lucius began, shaking his head, stumped at his search for the right word.

"I'm what?"

He began to walk into the water. "What are you doing to me?" he asked, his mouth tickling at her ear.

"What do you mean?" Hermione's legs wrapped around him when they waded waist-deep.

"You're driving me mad," Lucius replied and kissed her.

She kissed him back and gently rubbed her pelvis against his stomach, the ocean water licking at their skin. His arms tightened around Hermione, his chest pressing against hers as the water rose up to her shoulders. She opened her mouth to deepen the kiss, using the heels of her feet to push him closer. The ocean, the tropical air, and the fading sun were intoxicating. Watching Lucius surf and now being intimate with him was enough to melt Hermione's ovaries.

"I want you," she told him without any reservations.

He grinned with that cocky smile of his. "You're insatiable."

"Would you rather I want someone else?"

He shot her a glare. "No," he said firmly, grabbing at Hermione's head and kissing her.

His obvious disinterest at the idea rendered the witch extremely happy. Sometimes she felt foolish when she started to think about how much she'd grown to truly adore this wizard in such an awfully short time. Not that she had visions of wedding bells in her head, but Hermione knew that she wanted more of him; the weekends just wouldn't be enough after this trip. To prove her point, she reached down between them and grabbed his cock outside of his swim trunks. She felt his forearm come around her lower back and knew what his next move would be. Hermione opened her thighs father, and his free hand came to her front. Hidden in the water, Lucius's thumb pressed against her pussy, and she stifled her cry of exultation. She continued to squeeze at his cock, as the small waves crashed into their bodies.

Hermione loved the feel of him, so potent and hard beneath her hands. When he made contact with her clit, she increased the pressure on her movements, kissing him hard once again.

"Ahhh," she cooed when Lucius started a steady rhythm against her hot spot. She knew they were still outside in public, but all she could concentrate on were their hands on each other. Her hips gyrated against him, and he welcomed their movements.

"You're driving me mad as well," Hermione whispered to him. Lucius's labored breathing drives her even further.

"We're good at being mad together, then." His thumb hooked around the fabric of her bikini and pushed up, underneath her clit, rubbing with delicate, insistent movements like only he could.

"Holy shit," she panted and grab him harder, trying to maintain her steady strokes on him. The tightening feeling was spreading through her body as Hermione pushed her center closer to his hand. Just as the feeling picked up momentum, someone called out to them.

"Are you two ready to head back?" Nicolas called from behind large rocks lining the beach and hiding them from view.

The lovers' heads both snapped in his direction.

"Yes, we're coming," Lucius called back, but kept his hands on his girlfriend's waist, leading her out of the deeper water. "Just not the way I want," he mumbled, and Hermione could only laugh at their mutual frustration.

* * *

Lucius could sense Hermione's impatience on their way back to his house. He loved how eager she was to give herself to him. After a busy day of socializing, there was nothing better than the thrill of finally being alone with her.

He backed her against the wall as he kissed her, his lips dominating hers. Her hands grappled at his shirt, pulling it free from the trousers. His own hands roamed over her waist and bottom, pushing up the skirt of her dress.

Lucius marveled at how soft her skin always felt. Soft and delicate, like the witch herself.

He grabbed at her arse, lifting her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Hermione sank her fingers into his hair, pressing his face into her neck. With a growl, Lucius carried her to the bed.

"I love when you're so possessive with me," she said, as he lowered her onto the mattress.

"I don't want to share you. I don't want anyone to make you feel ..." Lucius paused, rubbing his hand over her pussy. "...like I make you feel," he finished.

His witch only gasped in response. He kissed her again. Her mouth opened immediately, her tongue massaging his. He used a spell to divest her of her clothes. She didn't. Hermione slid his shirt off slowly, humming in pleasure when his chest was bared to her.

Although he knew she was his, Lucius was still driven with primal need to consume her.

"Hermione," he whispered her name against her lips.

"Yes?" she panted.

"I want to tie you up again. Just like the first time."

Licking her lips, she only said, "Okay."

At her consent, he conjured up the black ribbons again and tied her wrists with them before pinning them to the headboard.

"Open your legs," Lucius commanded her, and she complied with typical eagerness, spreading her thighs wide.

He stood in front of her, taking her in completely; he liked taking his time to appreciate the finer things in life, and Hermione Granger was a masterpiece. Her pussy was incredible, all pink, wet and inviting. Her folds were delicate, framing the tightest hole Lucius ever had the pleasure of filling. He took in the rest of her, marveling at her deliciously flared hips, taut stomach, and firm, enticing breasts.

When he looked into her dark eyes, the woman who gazed back was not the nervous ingenue of their first date, but a confident seductress. Lucius hovered above her, careful not to touch her yet.

"You look beautiful tied up," he told her, moving down her body until his head was between his legs.

"Ah!" She jumped, then immediately pushed her hips toward his face.

He dragged his tongue up her damp slit. Hermione's head dropped between her outstretched arms, and she moaned in half pleasure, half agony.

She tasted so good. Too good, it really should be a crime. Lucius thought he'd gone deranged the first time he tasted her warm, sweet flesh. Perhaps it has made him deranged. He was addicted to bringing her pleasure. As this thought passed, he shoved his tongue under the hood of her clit and flicked her relentlessly, just like he knew she liked.

"Unngh! Lucius!" Hermione called out, and when he licked her bundle of nerves again, she cried out even louder, angling her body away from his mouth.

Lucius was having none of that. He wrapped his hands around her thighs, holding her still in place. He licked the wetness of her excited pussy, running his tongue up to tease her clit again.

"You don't play fair," she whined in a small voice.

Lucius couldn't help the wolfish grin spreading on his face. "Fairness has nothing to do with this, but just because you said that..." He untied her bounds and pulled her off the bed.

"Bend over and grab the frame," he instructed her.

Hermione grasped the headboard and bent over. In the same instant, the ribbons retied themselves around her wrists. Lucius swallowed at the sight of her tight bottom. He vanished the rest of his clothing and positioned himself at her pink heat before pushing the head in. She gasped, and he grabbed her hips, giving her a moment to adjust to him before beginning her punishment in earnest. He slowly thrust in and out, pushing her dark curls past her smooth back and over her shoulder. Hermione adjusted her balance and bent over even more. Lucius thrust his hips forward, forcing more of her muscles apart, penetrating her deeper than ever. She yelped, and he saw her cringe from the pressure, but couldn't stop himself from doing it again. His nerves were on fire, as her muscles gripped his cock. He slammed into her over and over, keeping her hips in front of his pelvis.

"Fuck, Lucius!" she cried out, trying to maintain her position.

He closed his eyes and concentrated on not hurting her ... too much. She moaned incoherently, as he slid in and out of her, pushing himself into her just far enough to kiss her deepest spot, loving the way she gasped every time he got a little too far. He loved the way she called out his name and bit her lip to suppress her louder screams. Few things in life were as erotic as watching her petite frame wiggle to accommodate his size. She had to be the tightest witch Lucius ever had, including every virgin he'd never been with.

"Ow!" Hermione whimpered when he slammed into her to the hilt.

Immediately, Lucius pulled back to relieve the pressure, moving his hands up to grasp her breasts, loving the feel of them in her hands. She craned her neck to look back at him as he increased his pace, her curls bouncing, her brown eyes watering.

"Do you like being tied up?"

"I do ... but only ... f-for you," she stammered out.

Her words went straight to his cock. He loved hearing her admit that she's his and his cock is the only cock competent enough to please her.

Lucius pumped harder into her. Her tight channel flexed around his cock with every thrust, as she arched her back and begged for more.

"Lucius," Hermione panted his name in that sweet husky tone that told him she's close to coming. He leaned down more over her and kept up his vigorous speed.

"I'm gonna come," she moaned.

Lucius bit her shoulder, fucking her hard into the mattress until she screamed from her climax. Hearing her come - the mere potency of the moment that he's the one responsible for her unparalleled pleasure - robbed the Pureblood wizard of all control, as he spurted his release deep inside her.

Hermione's legs shook and she visibly shivered. Something about those movements made Lucius feel exceedingly proud. Panting against her neck, he relaxed his body down on hers and whispered a spell to unbind her hands. She turned to look at him.

"You can tie me up anytime," she said, and all he could do was smile.


End file.
